Post-war trauma, loss and judicial battles form the backdrop for this impassioned and deeply affecting rendition of Arthur Millers’ 1947 play. With a stage to rival the ADC, dressing this set must have been a daunting task, but the set design is flawlessly evocative of the quaint domesticity of the post-War American homestead. You can’t help but feel that behind the whimsical gingham tablecloth, kitsch garden furniture, and gaily draped American flag, an ugly secret is hiding, waiting to come to light.

The star of the show is undeniably the acting. Imogen Gray is commanding as Kate Keller, the bereaved mother and volatile matriarch of the family, delivering a nuanced and compelling portrayal, as the audience heartbreakingly realises that the son for whom she waits is never coming home. Louella Lucas carries a quiet confidence as the perfect ‘girl next door’, Ann Deever, holding dignity and tension in equal balance as her fledgling romance with Chris (Ollie Flowers) is soured by the weight of mistrust and tragedy.

You can’t help but feel that behind the whimsical gingham tablecloth ... an ugly secret is hiding

The flirtatious chemistry of the young lovers is crushingly cut short by the web of familial deceit which surrounds them, but Chris’s initial declaration of love to Ann is particularly well handled: the fumbled intimacy and boyish shyness of a first kiss is portrayed very realistically, and handled well by the actors.

Cian Morey is bombastic in all the right ways as Jim Bayliss, whilst sneering neighbour Sue Bayliss (Arianna Muñoz) carries a disturbingly accurate portrayal of the oppression of small-town domesticity.

As with most of Miller’s plays, father-son relationships take centre stage, and the increasingly fractured relationship between Joe Keller and his son were the standout performances, brought vividly to the stage by Maia von Malaisé and Ollie Flowers.

This talented group of actors nurse out the best from Millers’ script, and masterfully control the escalating cycles of tension and reprieve, effortlessly keeping the audience engaged in a deeply complex story. What it truly means to “be a man” is thrust into the spotlight, with a cast of male characters who are never quite able to escape the “little man” syndrome to become the best of themselves, painfully falling short every time.

The only thing that slightly paled the dramatic effectiveness of the play were the ambitious midwest accents, which occasionally risked drifting into caricature. Whilst the tragic ending of the play was executed devastatingly well, the cast were still finding their dramatic footing in the first few scenes, and a lack of initial confidence meant there was some rushed delivery and stumbled lines to start. This however, was likely a one-off token of opening night.

This impressive and tightly performed piece is true to the original. The careful growth of the characters and their battles with trust and loyalty go hand in hand with devastating tragedies that spiral towards climax. The skill of the actors and surety of the direction ensured that the gravity of feeling never spilled over into melodrama. And, despite making you feel a bit like you’re inside a rustic Italian pizza oven, Robinson’s red-bricked theatre was warm, welcoming, and the perfect place for this classic play to come to life.