Josh Harmon’s dark comedy is a wild ride that may leave a mark

Joshua Harmon’s Bad Jews is one of those pressure-cooker plays where the audience is as keen to escape the situation as the characters. That moment of anticipated release is what drives the plot in this dark comedy (emphasis on “dark”), and Director Selena Naumoff pulls it off nicely with an exceptionally strong cast.

The scene is a studio apartment in New York, where two brothers and a cousin have assembled for the funeral of their grandfather — a Holocaust survivor they call “Poppy.” From the get-go we can see the storm clouds gathering as two cousins — slacker Jonah (Daniel Schwartz) and gung-ho born-again Jew Daphna (Megan Shapiro) — are arguing about who’s going to sleep where in the “spare” apartment owned by Jonah’s parents.

What might seem like a typically fraught situation as happens at funerals between relatives quickly escalates with the post-funeral arrival of Jonah’s brother Liam (B. Glick) and his ultra-blonde, WASP-y girlfriend Melody (Mary Tillis).

Daphna and Liam are like the Hatfields and the McCoys mixed with the Montagues and the Capulets and rolled into two angry young adults who truly despise one another. Adding to that is the fact that in Liam’s possession is a family heirloom of Poppy’s that Daphna highly desires. He wants it even more, and she will get it, Liam informs her, over his dead body.

(L-R) B. Glick, Mary Tillis and Megan Shapiro in ‘Bad Jews’ | Photo: Selena Naumoff

Naked enmity

Harmon’s play is a study in young identity and the struggles we all go through defining it. At the heart of it is Daphna, whose over-the-top bitchiness and wild mane of red hair sit atop a highly neurotic woman who’s glommed onto Judaism with the fervor of a PETA activist. Liam knows it’s a façade, and her use of faith as shield and sword is as offensive to him as her constant brushing of her hair.

“It’s disgusting,” he spits.

As unpleasant as Daphna is, Liam isn’t far behind. C-words fly, things devolve into screaming and Melody looks on in horror as the man she loves morphs into a monster.

Jonah tries as best he can to be Switzerland, but some of his actions (and inaction) infuriate the others as well. Schwartz clearly gets the character, playing him with a studied insouciance as he slouches about trying to stay out of the line of fire.

Naumoff manages all of this action with purposeful, near-constant movement on the thrust-style stage. The annoying pole in the middle of it all is used to advantage as a center point around which the distinct elements of the set are built.

I typically believe yelling is unnecessary on stage, but in this case it seems appropriate. Liam is a ball of fury, and Glick plays him beautifully as a human volcano that can’t help erupting.

Meanwhile, Daphna has the effect of boomeranging it right back at him with her turbo-charged self-righteousness. Shapiro nails the character, sniping at all comers from amid her riotous wig and making it impossible to sympathize with her. Harmon’s script is loaded with juicy lines for her — from irritating not-so-subtle digs to outright insults, she’s the character you love to hate. Yet she still inspires sympathy as Liam viciously unmasks her.

As the play reaches its climax, it’s Melody who steps in to assert herself. Tillis does a nice job as the unfortunate partner trapped in a family squabble she wants nothing to do with. She’s nice, so nice, and why can’t everyone just get along? Why would you talk to someone like that? Ultimately, she serves as the mirror through which Liam sees himself in all the appalling detail.

By the time he and Melody make their escape, the apartment is a Nagasaki of negative emotion. Yes, Bad Jews has its share of funny lines, but the upshot is a family portrait that makes Dorian Gray look like George Clooney. It’s a wild 90 minutes of theatre that may well leave you shaken.