"All My Sons" is hardly escapist fare. Watching the defense of a man break down under the weight of his own guilt is more conducive to morbid fascination than to light-hearted pleasure. The players approach their task with all due reverence for its theme.

Joe Keller manufactured and wittingly sent out during the war defective airplane parts which later cost the lives of twenty-one airplane pilots over Austria. The executioner of the gods in this instance is Joe's son Chris, home from the wars, and his instrument is the last letter of his brother Larry who died off the coast of China. Larry confessed in it that his father's scandal was more than he could bear and that his next mission would be his last. It is only the knowledge that he caused his own son's death which lays Joe open, and once Joe is in the open, he can find no better way out of his predicament than suicide.

It is here that the story's solution to the problem of the irresponsible individual is weakest. Joe's sin was in insulating himself from the consciousness of his acts to society until it was too late to do anything more than expiate his crimes. True, the expiation provides the framework for a grim demonstration of the way moral justice embodied in his son breaks through his isolation. But the authors true to the classic tragedy, could find no other way of solving the riddle of society, which must deal with such individuals, or that of the sinner, than to put Joe out of the way.

Edward G. Robinson's Joe Keller is a truly contemptible cheat, trapped by his own weakness, trying to bully his conscience out of existence, taking refuge from his acts in the fond belief that he acted "for his family." But his acquaintances give him credit only for being more "clever" than his partner who went to jail, and his own son deserts him as soon as he is convinced of his father's guilt. His wife Kate, played by Mady Christians, seeks refuge from her husband's acts in the firm conviction that Larry is still alive, until his letter convinces her that she has no hope. Her characterization is a strong one, stronger than Robinson's, possibly because her scenes are less flossy than his and all of a piece--she does not have to make hypocrisy convincing. Burt Lancaster is an uneven Chris, vestiges of his "tough man" roles seem to get in his way too often for his own good. All in all, however, if you're in the mood for it, "All My Sons" is well worth a trip down-town.