Pollyannas and the strictly politically correct beware: "The God of Carnage" may not be for you.
The Tony award-winning comedy by French playwright Yasmina Reza and Seattle Rep's season opener concerns two couples who meet to discuss a playground incident in which one boy knocked out the other boy's front teeth with a stick.
What begins as a polite discussion quickly deteriorates into a war of shifting alliances that uncovers the hypocrisy, racism, misogyny and homophobia lurking not far beneath the surface of this upper-middle class foursome, demonstrating once again that beneath the thin veneer we call civilization lurks the "Lord of the Flies" or, in this case, the "God of Carnage."
But then political correctness never made for good laughs, and "The God of Carnage" is full of them while providing a platform for its quartet of talented Seattle actors to shine. Real-life couple Amy Thone and Hans Altwies (who played the warring Beatrice and Benedick this past summer in Wooden O's "Much Ado About Nothing") are the liberal Novaks whose son is the injured party.
Mrs. Novaks is writing a book about Darfur; Mr. Novaks owns a wholesale business; costume designer Deb Trout dresses them in expensively casual hand-knit sweaters that would look right at home here in Seattle.
The Raleighs, on the other hand, are dressed for success. Sleazy lawyer Alan (Denis Arndt) transacts business on his cell phone while performing due diligence on behalf of his family; cynically, he is depicted as the least hypocritical of the four. Bhama Roget is his trophy wife, Annette, a self-styled "wealth manager" (i.e., managing her husband's wealth.)
Under the deft direction of Wilson Milam, the four actors don't miss a comic beat as they spit out witty diatribes from Christopher Hampton's (screenplay for "Dangerous Liaisons") English translation of Reza's script. A bottle of rum added to the mix takes the skirmishes to a more physical level; Roget particularly shines in this department.
Eugene Lee's set wittily greets audiences with an enormous panoramic X-ray of a jaw hovering over the Novaks' pristine all-white living room, a living room that belies Vanessa Novaks' purported child-centrism and that is later defiled in a very funny stage effect.
The humor is reminiscent of Joe Orton ("Loot") but lacks the complexities of Orton's political and institutional skewering. Other than demonstrating what fools these mortals be, there is little grist here. Still "God of Carnage" points out some unpleasant truths about the human condition and the hypocrisy of our society. Most importantly, it keeps the laughs coming for most of its compact 90 minutes while spotlighting the artistry of four super performers.[[In-content Ad]]
