Carnage (12A.)
Directed by Roman Polanski.
Starring Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, Christophe Waltz, John C. Reilly. 79 mins.
When I was young, it was at tradition at Christmas for ITV, there was only one, to broadcast a version of the leading West End hit comedy of the year, invariably an Ayckbourne or something. As it would star various cast members of The Good Life the family would sit down to watch for maybe five minutes before turning it off in disbelief at the rubbish they put on in that theatre.
The latest film from Polanski starts with a sly credit sequence which catches you off guard by starting the story a little before you realise it. It could well be a little homage to the final scene of Hidden and it’s a deceptively cinematic opening to a film that is entirely made up of the rubbish they put on in that theatre.
It’s a straight adaptation of Yasmina Reza’s hit The Gods Of Carnage, four people in a single location in real time. The cast is two equally ghastly New York middle class couples who come together to try and settle a dispute after the child of one couple has struck the son of the other couple with a stick. It all begins civilly enough but gradually the polite veneer falls away and the piece descends into a glorious slanging match.
Winslet and Waltz are the parents of the aggressor child, leaving Reilly paired with Foster as the parents of the victim. After being married to Tilda Swinton in We Need To Talk About Kevin, Reilly finds himself spoused with another forbiddingly self righteous liberal figure.
Once it gets going Carnage lives up to its title and is often hilarious. There is though something mechanical about the way Yeza’s play works its way through the options, each pair taking turn to be the combatant, each character rotating to position of main target.
The film takes a bit of time to get going and during the first third the audience seemed a little uneasy. All apart from one man who was roaring throughout, with that braying superior laugh of a fearta goer. Carnage is funny but no more than comparable pieces written for television and it’s largely safe: you can always earn a buck getting the ghastly middle classes to laugh at middle class ghastliness. It’s laughter from a lesser art form.
Directed by Roman Polanski.
Starring Jodie Foster, Kate Winslet, Christophe Waltz, John C. Reilly. 79 mins.
When I was young, it was at tradition at Christmas for ITV, there was only one, to broadcast a version of the leading West End hit comedy of the year, invariably an Ayckbourne or something. As it would star various cast members of The Good Life the family would sit down to watch for maybe five minutes before turning it off in disbelief at the rubbish they put on in that theatre.
The latest film from Polanski starts with a sly credit sequence which catches you off guard by starting the story a little before you realise it. It could well be a little homage to the final scene of Hidden and it’s a deceptively cinematic opening to a film that is entirely made up of the rubbish they put on in that theatre.
It’s a straight adaptation of Yasmina Reza’s hit The Gods Of Carnage, four people in a single location in real time. The cast is two equally ghastly New York middle class couples who come together to try and settle a dispute after the child of one couple has struck the son of the other couple with a stick. It all begins civilly enough but gradually the polite veneer falls away and the piece descends into a glorious slanging match.
Winslet and Waltz are the parents of the aggressor child, leaving Reilly paired with Foster as the parents of the victim. After being married to Tilda Swinton in We Need To Talk About Kevin, Reilly finds himself spoused with another forbiddingly self righteous liberal figure.
Once it gets going Carnage lives up to its title and is often hilarious. There is though something mechanical about the way Yeza’s play works its way through the options, each pair taking turn to be the combatant, each character rotating to position of main target.
The film takes a bit of time to get going and during the first third the audience seemed a little uneasy. All apart from one man who was roaring throughout, with that braying superior laugh of a fearta goer. Carnage is funny but no more than comparable pieces written for television and it’s largely safe: you can always earn a buck getting the ghastly middle classes to laugh at middle class ghastliness. It’s laughter from a lesser art form.
