When Jules Feiffer wrote “Little Murders” in 1967, he could have given it a subtitle: “It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Era.” The play was a function of its time, and that time was out of joint. Violence was on the rise in America and in New York City, where “Little Murders” is set, so it doesn’t seem at all strange that the beginning of “Little Murders” introduces us to one of the first modern dysfunctional families on the verge of a nervous breakdown, while its ending shows that family gone utterly berserk. Currently playing at the American Century Theater, Feiffer’s play does not appear dated at all. Indeed, sadly, the city it portrays is not substantially different from many American urban centers in 2012. Its characters complain of stuck elevators, random shootings, air pollution. And they know that their optimistic dreams — of playing tennis and having friends and going skiing — probably won’t happen.
Director Ellen Dempsey fortunately steers the production away from too realistic a portrayal of the Newquists, Marjorie and her husband, Carol, and their children Patsy and Kenny, though she could have taken the production even further from reality.
| Onstage |
| ‘Little Murders’ |
| Where: American Century Theater, Gunston Theatre II, 2700 S. Lang St., Arlington |
| When: Through Feb. 11 |
| Info: $27 to $35; 703-998-4555; americancentury.org |
Emily Morrison, as Marjorie, achieves the bizarre essence of Feiffer’s comedy most effectively. Morrison is always slightly aquiver, crying whenever she even thinks someone is criticizing her, yet continually upbraiding her family for their behavior.
Her husband is played with appropriately awkward bumptiousness by Craig Miller. Robin Covington is excellent as their controlling, manipulative daughter Patsy, who is determined to get her current boyfriend to marry her. Her brother, Kenny, is portrayed well by Evan Crump. James Finley is convincing in the play’s most difficult role, that of the goofy boyfriend Alfred, who at best acts like an automaton, and at worst is completely catatonic.
Before becoming a playwright, Feiffer was a cartoonist, and “Little Murders” has an element of the cartoon in it. It’s not meant to be taken as a literal image of existence, but instead is a dark farce full of caustic humor. So, although the individual performances are skilled, there is something missing from this “Little Murders.”
There are glimpses of out-and-out madness in the final scene when Alfred begins to go around the bend and when the whole family fights back against violence, but the overall pace of the play is not scattershot enough, dipping here and there into what feels like occasional erratic behavior. This “Little Murders” doesn’t make quite the sense it would if it were more consistently chaotic, running on high-octane anarchy throughout.
