The play surrounds two families, deeply intertwined with friendship, secrets and scandal. Keller and Deever families have been friends for decades. After a disastrous decision of shipping out faulty parts to the army, Deever ends up in prison, his screams echoing his innocence. Kellers deal with aftermath of their son, Larry, missing in action and their other son Chris proposing to Larry's ex, Ann. The narration complicates further when George, Ann's brother, comes to visit Kellers and Ann hinting at exposing a secret that the Keller parents are hiding. 
 Miller plants seeds of doubt early in the play, maintaining a grey hue on the setting. The sweetness exuded by the matriarch is tainted by bitterness and an earnest longing for her missing son. Her refusal to accept his death puts the family in a precarious position and every interaction with her hangs in a delicate balance. Miller misguides his viewers/readers when the strength shown by a character comes to table; Kate, the matriarch, exhibits fits of anxiety when her missing son is mentioned while Joe, the patriarch has accepted his son's fate. The role is reversed when George walks in with accusations and shied away truths. 
 The reaction Chris has towards George's narration is intense while his conversation with his father is heart wrenching. Miller toes between the duties one finds obligated to when it comes to family where moral dilemma becomes banality. Joe's decision lies in his affection for his family, moral consequences be damned. Chris existence is bettering oneself and doing something great for the society and in turn to the country. The clash of two ideologies comes to a head with the exposure on the incident that Kate and Joe desperately try to bury. All my sons is apologetic and the apology comes after the loss of two dozen souls. 
 But. 
 All my sons has left me underwhelmed. 
 Miller finds these soft spots that are hidden behind thick flesh and pokes them really, really hard. It aches and hurts and bruises, and there isn't anything left to do but react viciously. Just how the characters from these plays do. Miller holds back just before a punch can be delivered and the emotions fizzle out. Maybe that is how people are? They don't complete a fight; people drag out a moment just to avoid confrontation with the truth. 
 I was expecting more in second act but its dry and the conversations are left dangling and underused. The plot picks up quickly in the third act and Miller delivers a brilliant conclusion. But the haphazard movements of the characters in second act (and during end of the first), left me hanging. 
 All my Sons is still a fantastic read that surrounds a couple swarmed in guilt. The ending can be nothing but tragic in circumstances where the characters are capable of more than pocketful of empathy. A father can never see himself from the grace in the eyes of his son. Can anything be more tragic than that?