NAsan Englandershort stories, First published in New Yorker magazine in 2011,track four jews arguing in a room. The room is Debbie and Phil's stylish Florida kitchen. The other Jews are Debbie's former school friend and her husband, visiting from Israel. While Debbie's life is now secular, Lauren has become Shoshana and lives an ultra-Orthodox life in Jerusalem, where her husband Mark turned Elcham. The reunion quickly turns sour.
Englander's frivolous story inspired the unspeakable during the Obama administration with its sordid bravado. We are in a different place now. Director Patrick Marber urged Englander to write this version to reflect the crisis in Jewish identity since October 7th.
Former friends evaluate each other. Shoshana, a radiant blonde in a married woman's wig, and Deb, a slender figure (“In our part of Jerusalem, you would be stoned”). Israelis browse Instagram and smoke weed. Everyone gets pissed and then gets high.
Englander thoughtfully develops its scenarios, explores the backstories of its characters, and gives them entirely new content. After the initial critique of Israel (“Are we doing it yet?”), questions of religious and cultural identity, conflicting ideas about homeland, and what it means to be a Jew come into play. Debbie (Caroline Katz)'s obsession with the Holocaust and Yelcham's (Simon Yadoo) elation over his interracial marriage become even more powerful, as the pain of the past year inevitably erupts.
There's already plenty of dialogue in this story (although Joshua Marina's Phil loses focus to his enthusiastic companions after the narrator's sarcasm shakes him off). Marber keeps the conversation tense and dramatic, filling the bones of Anna Fleischl's elegant kitchen with confrontational crosscurrents of things better left unsaid. A standout among the strong performances is Dorothea Meyer-Bennett's Shoshanna, who carries the dialogue like a sarcastic musical virtuoso. Gabriel Howell does a great job as the host's teenage son, but he's an unimpressive host.
And what's the title? It's a decidedly troubling “game of ultimate truth” that the girls experienced in their childhood. If you were in Anne Frank's shoes, who would protect you? The story ends with a heart-wrenching sense of disbelief. The play elaborates on the game's ritual atmosphere, adding an inward weight to it. Still, a work built on anxiety and excitement can't quite sustain this political moment, with all its anger and despair.
