The stage show
“Carnage” reflects the America we live in today, critic Matthew J. Palm writes.
The saying “it’s funny because it’s true” is depressingly apt when applied to Yasmina Reza’s “God of Carnage.” The dark comedy, which premiered about a dozen years ago, only seems to have grown more pointed with age. As four seemingly civilized adults tear into each other, Reza shines a disturbing light on the dogeat-dog world in which we live.
Florida Theatrical Association is presenting the Tony-winning show in a very funny production directed by Kenny Howard. This incarnation has a reallife twist in the casting: Married actors Julie Snyder and Michael Carr play one of the feuding couples in Reza’s story. I don’t know, of course, if their real-world status gives the two any special insight into the relationship between their characters of Michael and Veronica. But I sincerely hope not.
That’s because when the fur starts to fly in “God of Carnage,” none of the relationships seems particularly healthy. Michael and Veronica have invited Alan and Annette into their home to discuss an incident involving their children. Alan and Annette’s 11-year-old son has hit Michael and Veronica’s son with a stick, damaging his teeth.
But the parents’ actions devolve into infantile chaos as their own prejudices come to light.
Howard does a fine job with the play’s pacing, starting things off with awkward pauses and sideways glances from his players. As the rum flows, the arguments heat up and the words fly faster — though Howard lets things get too shouty from time to time. He also has a solid handle on positioning his actors — as alliances shift between the couples and the genders, the actors circle the stage, as well.
There’s a predatory vibe to the play, with its concern about how the strong always prey on the weak, be it boy vs. boy, a pharmaceutical company vs. the sick, or man vs. hamster — a particularly disturbing part of the story.
Snyder and Carr are joined by actors Jerry Jobe. Jr. and Kari Ringer, and all four project more likability than these characters really deserve. Jobe captures the right slimy air for his lawyer, and Ringer makes a strong impression in her local debut. Carr’s transition from nonchalant to intimidating is believable and aided by his stature.
But it’s Snyder whose face expresses a panoply of emotion, her smug formality collapsing into frantic anger.
Toward play’s end, Reza starts peppering the script with her thoughts on the fragile nature of civilization, most of which are delivered by Snyder’s Veronica — until even her convictions start to crack.
“We are living in America,” Veronica protests to the others, defeat creeping into her voice. Yes, we are. Which is why “God of Carnage” is both funnier and more depressing than ever.