Posted: Sunday 23rd March 2008

Reviewed by Gregory Hughes

Currently playing at the Gielgud Theatre is God of Carnage, a new play by Yasmina Reza, the playwright behind the international hit Art. A cast to die for pairs Ralph Fiennes and Tamsin Greig as Alain and Annette, a couple paying an awkward visit to the house of Veronique and Michel (Janet McTeer and Ken Stott).

The premise is simple: Alain and Annette’s son has beaten Veronique and Michel’s son, knocking out two of his teeth. Veronique invites the other parents round to clear the air and see what they can do to address the act of violence that has unexpectedly brought them together. The dialogue sizzles from the start, the four characters putting on an air of civility and maturity where the cracks only occasionally show. Michel breaks the ice by recounting how he liberated their daughter’s pet hamster, leaving the startled animal to the mercy of the elements and a signal of the subtler but more devastating violence of adults. Veronique promptly produces coffee and cake and they chat around the reason for the visit, under pretence of interest, but really standing in judgement about their respective businesses. This social game they all play is only broken by Alain’s incessantly ringing mobile phone, which he has no qualms about giving his full attention; helping himself to several more servings of cake whilst gradually revealing he is a lawyer defending a corrupt pharmaceutical company whose medicine has serious side-effects. Gradually and irrevocably, the masks of civility crumble as the gloves are slipped on, and the descent into bitter war becomes inevitable.

The pace of God of Carnage never lets up; and gathers more and more energy as the story unfolds as each character reveals their inherent ugliness or hypocrisy. Matthew Warchus’ direction makes for a slick and energetic show, and the comic timing is superb throughout. Reza spins the narrative with astonishing flair and skill every few minutes; and the constantly changing loyalties between the characters creates a drama that holds you in suspense throughout. The dissection of the two marriages and the microscopic examination of the four personalities that regress to a base and childish state as the manners and social airs erode makes fascinating viewing; appealing to the voyeur in all of us, and leaving the unpalatable question: are we any better?

Ralph Fiennes turns in a remarkable physical performance where the arching of the back, hands on hips, swivelling neck, and rapid hand gestures married with dialogue barked through a sneer was redolent of another great of the British stage, the late Leonard Rossiter. Whilst playing against type as a confident, arrogant and ultimately selfish lawyer, Fiennes was wholly convincing. Alain is the rich man who has never grown up. With his job more important than anything else and living his life through his favourite toy – his mobile phone; he perfectly encapsulated the breed of businessman that erupted in the 80s; and his utter defeat, slumping onto the sofa after the loss of his phone was entirely credible.

It is difficult by the end to know which, if any, character deserves our sympathy; or whether, as imperfect, frightened and deeply unhappy people, as much victims of society as their children, they all deserve our sympathy. Certainly the direct and unambiguous act of violence that brings the couples together can only be seen as a purer and less damaging form of the violence they inflict on each other but without the pretty wrappings of social mores and bourgeois ideologies.

Whether the play is ultimately a social satire, a very funny tragedy; or a cross-genre French farce and Greek tragedy full of hilarious coincidence, hubris and pathos somehow doesn’t matter because the story was loved by the audience, who followed each carefully crafted twist in the ever-changing relationships and laughed even when the comedy was painful. It is a universal tale, brilliantly told against a stylised crimson set. Each actor’s individual moments of brilliance brought applause from a buoyant audience. Ken Stott’s increasingly animated and bombastic tantrum; Tamsin Greig’s act of revenge on her husband’s mobile phone; Janet McTeer’s indulgence in rum and Ralph Fiennes’ timing of his cutting, sarcastic put-downs proved that each performer had nailed not just their characters, but the crucial comic and dramatic timing, and it made for a memorable evening at the theatre. With a truly shocking moment of live on-stage vomiting; God of Carnage really is unlike anything you’ll have seen on stage for years.