The Arthur Miller Society is having its 11th annual conference at the Community College of Southern Nevada on Thursday, and the school's theater department is offering a perfect salute: a first-rate production of one of the writer's best-known plays.

Director Jon Hennington's take on the 1947 "All My Sons" is well-conceived, beautifully acted and unusually moving.

Joe Keller (Ken Kucan) just wants to enjoy home and family. But there's something in his past that's coming back to haunt him. When it's finally revealed, he has to deal with a despairing wife (Susan Lowe), a disillusioned son (Joshuah Laird), and, worse, his own conscience.

Miller's language is surprising in its delicacy and observations. Hennington and the cast respect the music of the dialogue.

Kucan's a domineering patriarch. You believe he's a ruthlessly self-made man. Yet, you are touched by his vulnerability.

Lowe's a marvel as the suffering wife. Her character is half-mad in denial about the death of a son, and Lowe gets you inside this neurotic woman's heart. She seems to have a direct line to grief.

Laird is the wholesome member of the household, and the actor manages to play wholesome with great masculine strength.

Breon Jenay achieves a difficult mix of anger and compassion as Joe's future daughter-in-law.

And Shane Cullum offers a subtle, uncluttered performance in a brief but pivotal role as the son of Joe's former business partner who confronts the family. Cullum's a gifted, organic actor.

Although the performers have power throughout, they are especially commanding when their characters confront one another. You sense they want to win, and yet they all seem frightened of mutual destruction. You never feel these performers are yelling just because they're dying to act.

Some minor drawbacks occasionally intrude. The role of a doctor has been peculiarly edited. The third-act, a tad overwrought in the writing, is played a tad overwrought. While Ron Lindblom's backyard set is exemplary in mood and look, there's a gazebo near centerstage that blocks too much action. Hennington does an expert job of playing to the three-quarters round audience, but the gazebo forces him to keep his characters moving so relentlessly that the movement feels artificial. And Rip Rippetoe's attractive lighting does not accommodate the constant motion. Too many speeches are delivered in darkness while the person listening is in dominant light.

But you may find yourself so drawn into Hennington's world that you barely notice. A superb cast and a sensitive director have given this special material the immediacy it needs. You feel as if you're eavesdropping on a neighbor's life.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.