WESTFIELD – If you let a domesticated hamster out of its cage onto the streets of a city, or even into a forest, will it survive? Likewise, if we civilized beings on this planet are left to our own devices without the constraints of structured society, will we survive? Don’t you just love comedy/ farce that makes you think? That’s what Westfield Community Players’ latest offering serves up. The Tony award-winning play God of Carnage by Yasmina Reza and translated by Christopher Hampton, makes us laugh and think simultaneously and will continue to do so with performances over the next two weekends.
The lights come up on the especially stunning apartment (designed by Linda Correll) of Veronica (Renee Litwin) and Michael (John Schweska) Novak. Acolorful painting by Megan Middleton is showcased over an impressive full-wall stone fireplace complete with a wooden mantelpiece. The place reeks of money with art pieces delicately displayed. After all, Mr. Novak is the proud owner of a plumbing supply company and his Mrs. writes books on Darfur. The Novaks have invited Alan (Brian Remo) and Annette Raleigh (Sky Monroe), the parents of one of their 11-year-old son’s schoolmates for a get-together. This is no ordinary, “Let’s get to know each other over a drink or two” night, though. It seems the Novaks’ son Henry had his teeth bashed in by the other couple’s son, Benjamin. Protective mama bear Victoria, complete with her legal yellow pad, starts by reading their “statement” of the incident. The couples quibble over the wording and little fissures in the seemingly pleasant, convivial situation begin to appear. Ah, the not-so-subtle foreshadowing that it will not be an easy night for any of them.
Opposite philosophies of parenting emerge along with heightened emotions. Alan, a lawyer, is constantly taking phone calls on his cell phone. He does manage to interject to the group that his son “is a savage.” That’s basically what this cold-hearted man is – one who has no real relationship with his child. And he’s proud of it. He has a picture-perfect wife – thin, beautiful, a “wealth manager.” As each couple’s private life starts to open like a Venus Flytrap, vulnerability becomes a victim. Each person is ripe for being swallowed. When Michael breaks out the rum, and they all start to imbibe, emotional chaos ensues. The wives believe that good eventually will prevail in life and can solve all of society’s ills. The men embrace the idea that “violence is a law of life…we all struggle until we are dead.” It’s easy to see by the partners’ reactions that some of what is being said to each other is being voiced aloud for the first time.
What is it about theater that provides catharsis for us to see the behind- the-scenes of other people’s marital problems? We’re relieved that an outwardly beautiful couple – tall, blonde, attractive – but separate in their view of the world – may not be so perfect after all. Likewise, we’d never suspect that the writer/pacifist Veronica could be goaded into physical violence when her husband, Michael, reveals theories that she eschews. It’s a microcosm of our society today. Unresolved anger simmers just under the surface. Civilized society can’t always tame the beast within us. Here, the heated exchanges ignite passionate opinions that perhaps the couples don’t even recognize in themselves.
Smart direction by Fred Cuozzo allows the foursome to move around the set with a clear intention in this tight 85-minute play produced by Peter Curley. The four actors are wonderfully suited to exude their character’s best and worst attributes. The talented quartet delivers witty dialogue effortlessly with Brian Remo getting his fair share of laughs with perfectly timed zingers. In a farce of this nature with over-the-top antics, the adults start to act just like their spoiled kids. This show, while looking specifically at parenting techniques, ridiculous attachment to our cell phones, and the deceitfulness of pharmaceutical companies, offers a bigger, existential question. It asks if we are all just Neanderthals underneath, how long will we, as a society, last?
The show runs for two more weekends. Tickets may be purchased at the door or by calling (908) 232-1221.
