Carnage

Carnage (2011)

Director: Roman Polanski 

Cast: Jodie Foster, John C. Reilly, Kate Winslet, Christoph Waltz

Roman Polanski's Carnage opens with a steady-cam shot of an idyllic, seemingly normal encounter between young boys in Brooklyn Bridge Park. Two of the boys begin to argue, which ends with one hitting the other with a stick and storming away. Because this scene is viewed sans audio, the benign encounter gives the viewer the strange feeling that we have watched from a protective glass case.

This opening shot differs drastically from the remainder of the film, in which the viewer often feels bombarded and trapped in the swanky apartment of two middle-aged, bourgeois parents, Michael and Penelope Longstreet (John C.Reilly and Jodie Foster). We are not introduced to this apartment, but rather thrown in the pit, as the second shot features Penelope typing a letter recounting the fight between her son and the other boy, whose parents, Alan and Nancy Cohen (Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz), peer over her shoulder and politely correct her version of the story.  Polanski's set up provides us with a sense that Alan and Nancy will soon leave the Longstreet's after having indulged in the usual banalities we all are so familiar with during these awkward situations. Of course, that's not at all what happens.

Carnage is nothing if not hilarious, a bombardment of quips and spurious defenses that culminates in a climax of embarrassing, unadulterated venting. Everyone's worst side comes out, and once that happens, some of their best comes out, as well. John C. Reilly's Michael is a seemingly wimpy schmuck until he casually admits to voluntarily killing the family hamster, and later, proclaiming that he has been pussy-whipped and fashioned (literally) by his controlling, hypocritical wife. Similarly, Christoph Waltz's Alan initially appears dismissive and rude, constantly (literally) interrupting his hosts to answer business calls on his cell phone. Toward the end, however, he reveals himself, in the film's greatest monologue, to have clear and justifiable reasoning for his actions and perceptions of these social interactions.

If the men transform from masculine stereotypes to wise monsters, the females do the opposite. We recognize the superficiality and self-righteousness of Penelope even before her strong facade breaks down revealing her true, hysterical colors. Nancy is the most sympathetic of the bunch, initially because her husband is such a prick, but later, because she shows herself as a chronic sack of nerves who can't cope with any semblance of confrontation thrown her way. She vomits grotesquely from the stress, and upon recovering, gets drunk beyond oblivion on an empty stomach off Michael's scotch.

The fact that such character transformations can occur within the confines of a single setting with little to no action  is a momentous testament to the exquisiteness of Yasmine Reza's screenplay. If the film seems to end abruptly, it is only because (and here, I speculate) Reza recognized a great piece while writing and decided it was better to end it then see it drown in redundancy. I do not condemn this, but admire it. The film remains a flawless representation of man's powerless time and place in the universe, where forces beyond our control bring us in contact with strangers, and when our own inexplicable notions of civility prevent us from ever escaping. 

A