There’s always a danger adapting a stage play for film, particularly when the 2009 Broadway version was lauded for its terrific cast, won the Tony Award, and was confined to one set for an intermission-free 90-minutes. Then again, the 78 year-old director Roman Polanski has never shied away from a challenge or controversy. Facing imprisonment if he returns to the U.S. (in 1977, he was convicted of sexually assaulting a 13 year-old girl and fled to France before his sentencing), he is still making films abroad. Never mind that the play, God of Carnage, was set in Brooklyn. Polanski built a set in Paris, attracted three Academy Award-winning actors to star, and has produced a film that is amusing, engaging, and, dare we say, great theater. You don’t have to be a parent to appreciate the humor in Carnage, but it helps.
Rather than open up the play, Polanski has kept the action even tighter, allowing the camera to zoom in on the facial expressions and mannerisms of the four actors. And what an ensemble cast it is. Jodie Foster plays Penelope Longstreet, an uptight, no nonsense mother whose son had two teeth knocked out by a classmate. Both Penelope and her husband, Michael (John C. Reilly), have arranged a meeting with the other boy’s parents to…what? That’s the question. Should Nancy and Alan Cowan (Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz) have their son apologize? Should there be some other form of restitution? Or, was the Cowan boy really to blame or merely lashing out against the Longstreet boy’s bullying?
For the Broadway version, the Longstreet’s living room was sleekly modern and upscale, implying that the financial differences between the two couples were minimal. Polanski has placed the Longstreets in a decidedly middle class environment, the couches comfortable and well-worn, the shelves and coffee table overflowing with books. The one touch of brightness comes from the yellow tulips that Penelope bought especially for the occasion. The fact that she mentions this purchase several times signifies that she rarely wastes money on such extravagances.
Foster reminds us why she has nabbed two Academy Awards. Dressed in a long skirt and drab sweater, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her face devoid of makeup, Penelope could easily have faded into the background. Yet Foster demands our attention. Her pinched smile fails to reach her eyes and we can feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. The opening scene has her typing up a summary of the boys’ altercation. There’s little doubt that she has orchestrated this meeting, but she is not looking to forgive. As the action unfolds, her target shifts from the Cowans to her husband.
As Michael Longstreet, Reilly is a large presence physically (James Gandolfini played the role on Broadway), but he obviously plays a small role in the parenting department. To compensate, he takes the lead as host, tempering his wife’s coolness with an offer of cobbler and espresso. Michael sells bathroom equipment and fields Alan’s questions seriously, seemingly unaware he is being mocked. Later, he will break out his best scotch, less to impress his guests than to soothe his own injured ego.
At first glance, Winslet’s Nancy Cowan, an investment banker, is all professional polish. That facade crumbles when she suffers projectile vomiting after eating Penelope’s cobbler. (While this scene was startling enough on the stage, on film it’s even more effective, particularly if you are sitting near the front).
Christoph Waltz is perhaps the biggest surprise in the film. He channels every aggressive type—lawyer, banker, politician, corporate executive—we love to hate. With his BlackBerry glued to his ear, he reduces the other three to observer status, ignoring much of what’s happening around him. He’s less concerned about his wife being ill, or his son being blamed for a violent episode, than he is about saving his pharmaceutical client from a public relations nightmare. When an irate Nancy tosses his phone into the tulip water, he curls up on the floor like a hurt child. It’s a brilliant performance.
Polanski (his son plays one of the boys in an opening and closing montage), perhaps couldn’t resist as a parent himself, tacking on his own ending. As the credits roll, we see the two boys coming together, making up on the playground. Parental involvement was unnecessary. Helicopter parents take note.
Carnage
Opens December 13, 2011
Read our review of God of Carnage.
