Arthur Miller is evidently speaking to the moment. Several revivals have surged on to London stages, almost at once, all refracting the corruptions of power, wealth and conformity in our current world. This odd, explosive drama about two estranged brothers follows the recent, stupendous West End revival of All My Sons and the mysterious, magnetic Broken Glass at the Young Vic.

The scenario is simple: Victor (Elliot Cowan), a disgruntled man approaching 50, invites furniture dealer Gregory Solomon (Henry Goodman) to buy his late father’s old yet prized possessions from a building that will soon be demolished. They spend half the play brokering the deal until Victor’s more successful – and to him disloyal – brother Walter (John Hopkins) turns up, whereupon the play reveals its true face as a fractious family face-off.

It seems lopsided in structure, the testy comedy of Act One all but banished in Act Two, along with Solomon, who is sent to a room off-stage while the brothers have their confrontation. But this strangeness in shape is rendered all but irrelevant by the mighty cast in director Jonathan Munby’s production. They elevate the brothers’ grievances and inject epic levels of domestic tragedy into their parts across the board.

Goodman is a sad clown, almost vaudevillian, as Solomon runs rings around Victor while Hopkins and Cowan give full-bodied performances of characters that could be seen merely as “types”. Faye Castelow does a masterly job of turning the character of Victor’s frustrated wife, Esther, into a flesh and blood woman, pained by her husband’s paralysed ambition.

Although it is set in the 1960s, the backdrop is the Great Depression, when this once wealthy family was brought low – their faded grandness is clear to see on Jon Bausor’s dusty attic set with its monumental furniture, harp and dated gramophone. Yet the play does not only seek to dismantle the American Dream but also memory.

Victor, the sacrificing son who stayed to look after his out-of-work father, remembers the past in a very different way to Walter, who fled the home to achieve great things. Through their clashing memories, Miller captures the way in which the past is always contested within families, and between siblings. Miller makes you feel for them both, but also see how a life of illusion and wilful self-deception might be a choice. It is powerful, winding drama. You end up wondering why this angry, plaintive and deeply psychological play is not more often revived.