Theatre in Review: Bad Jews (Roundabout/Laura Pels Theatre)

	Tracee Chimo, Philip Ettinger, and Michael Zegen. Photo: Joan Marcus.

In her young career, Tracee Chimo has shown a distinct knack for playing tough customers. As a skeptical drama student in Circle Mirror Transformation, the meanest of the mean girls in Bachelorette, and a hard-headed ingénue in Harvey, her very appearance was a sure sign that prisoners would not be taken. One of these days, she's going to be cast as the fragile victim type -- one of these days.

Right now, however, she is playing her most formidable character yet; in Joshua Harmon's Bad Jews, she is Daphna Feygenbaum, a 21-year-old verbal terrorist. As the play begins, she is in New York for the funeral of beloved grandfather; staying with her cousin Jonah, she prowls his studio apartment, furiously combing her wildly unruly hair and looking for trouble. The conversation is frank, funny, and usually scalding. "I love that your mom got you a new suit for Poppy's funeral before he even died," she tells the nonplussed Jonah. "In your mom's checklist of shit to get done while he was dying, it was like, don't forget, Jonah's 'gonna need a new suit for when it happens." She is livid that Jonah's parents bought him his apartment. "You're not poor," says Jonah. "Compared to your family, we're like the Joads," she replies. "I don't know who that is," Jonah says. "You don't need to. Your parents buy you spare apartments," she snaps.

The bulk of Daphna's scorn is aimed at anyone she deems to be insufficiently Jewish. (For her part, she is planning to move to Israel after graduation, take rabbinical courses, and marry Gilad, a solider in the Israeli army.) Her prime target is Jonah's brother, Liam (Hebrew name: Shlomo), who, as far as she is concerned, is on the run from all things Semitic. She dismisses his Japanese-American ex-girlfriend as his "Peace Corps whore." She is even more horrified by Liam's new girlfriend, Melody, who "dresses like she was conceived and fucking live-water birthed in a Talbot's." A comment by Melody, that her family has "always" lived in Delaware, inspires Daphna to evoke the slaughter of Native Americans. When Melody, who has done nothing whatsoever to offend, repairs to the bathroom for a few minutes, Daphna launches into a scorched-earth monologue about her ("a woman with zero career goals and maybe point two brain cells and less than no talent") and Liam ("You could actually date a woman who was your intellectual equal, but instead, you find these tepid little Bambi creatures to impose this hyper-masculine hegemonical totalitarian regime on ... "). It's a volcano-like outpouring of venom unlike anything you've heard in a theatre lately, and it's a tribute to Chimo's skill that Daphna's behavior continues to fascinate even as it appalls. (Returning after the rant is over, Melody says, "Do you know you can hear everything in the bathroom?" "No shit," replies an unruffled Daphna.)

In fact, Daphna is in something of a spot. She is furious with Liam for missing their grandfather's funeral, which she views as the ultimate sign of disrespect. (Liam and Melody were in Aspen; he only has a lame excuse about a phone lost on the ski slopes.) But Daphna needs Liam to agree that she alone is the rightful heir to their grandfather's chai, a medallion that symbolizes his survival in the Holocaust. Liam has the chai in his possession, he has no intention of surrendering it, and his plans for it are uniquely designed to drive Daphna around the bend. And Liam, as it happens, can give as good as he gets: "I know she wishes she were this, like, barbed wire-hopping, Uzi-toting Israeli warlock superhero: Daphna; but actually, Diana Feygenbaum grew up in Schnecksville, Pennsylvania, in an armpit town doing swim team badly and hysterically sobbing when she didn't get picked to be cheerleader, in her closet, with the door closed ..." And that's just for openers.

At a time when so many young playwrights prefer to mind their manners, Harmon is blessed with a talent for invective that might give pause even to Edward Albee; he also has the skill to compose arias that are the verbal equivalent of flaying someone alive. Whether he can create fully rounded characters is something we will learn another day. The pitched battle that is Bad Jews is not really between people, but viewpoints. But, for now, the vigor of Harmon's words is more than enough.

Some of that complexity is supplied by the actors, who, under the direction of Daniel Aukin, fully convince us that these characters, with the exception of Melody, share a complicated past history. Chimo never lets Daphna become too shrill, largely because we can sense the desperation under her anger, and also because, like all bullies, when wounded, she suddenly turns surprisingly vulnerable. It's a complex role that requires a virtuoso performance, and she delivers in spades. As Liam, Michael Zegen starts out cool and casual before unlocking his own fury; he's at his best near the end, when, fighting dirty, he zeros in on Daphna's weak spot, nearly annihilating her with a few ugly truths. Molly Ranson skillfully underplays throughout as Melody, quietly checking her cell phone in the middle of the hysteria around her and suddenly taking charge when the situation calls for it. Philip Ettinger earns our sympathy as Jonah, clearly the family peacemaker, who only wants to stay off the field of battle.

It all unfolds on Lauren Helpern's slickly designed studio apartment setting, which is sleekly lit by Mark Barton. Dane Laffrey's costumes are just right for each character -- Melody's ski wear is perfectly conceived to irritate Daphna. Shane Rettig's sound design, which consists of a handful of cues, is solidly done.

Bad Jews has so many arresting qualities that it can be enjoyed entirely in terms of its sharp-tongued dialogue and merciless face-offs. Underneath it, however, Harmon has an intriguing and original point to make. Plays like Donald Margulies' The Model Apartment have examined the unique burdens placed on the children of Holocaust survivors; Bad Jews is possibly the first to examine the burdens of their grandchildren. Daphna and Liam represent extreme reactions to their Jewish heritage. The irony is, for all her bombast, Daphna isn't reconciled to it, and, for all his self-assertion, Liam isn't free of it. They might be enemies, but they are also opposite sides of the same coin. -- David Barbour