It’s a tale as old as the hills; kids on the playground or in the park sniping, bickering, fighting, switching allegiances, changing sides… they’re friends one minute, enemies the next, ganging up on one another and never really understanding where it is they’re going or what they’re meant to do when they get there.

This is something we know. It’s something we’ve all been through.

But in God of Carnage by Yasmina Reza (translated by Christopher Hampton), it’s not the kids who are causing the problems; it’s their parents. And that’s the premise of this play – two couples have come together to talk about the fact that one child has hit another with a stick, knocking his two front teeth out and they just can’t get to any kind of resolution – they go round and round, getting nowhere. There’s nothing more to it than that when it comes to the surface level story, but there’s so much more to it than that underneath. Or rather, there’s the promise of more. Unfortunately, though, none of the promises come to fruition, and that’s where one of the problems with this production lies – it feels a little thin and unfinished, and it doesn’t really end, it just fades away.

Another issue is that it is hard to determine whether the play is a comedy or not. There are some highly amusing moments; Alan’s reaction after his phone dies is hilarious, as is the reaction from every character when Annette vomits monumentally all over Veronica’s beloved catalogues. And any mention of what Michael did to his daughter’s poor hamster got a big laugh. However, the tone is uneven, and the play can’t seem to decide whether it’s a full-on comedy or a piece of drama and because of that, it is hard to get drawn into the story; should you be laughing? Listening intently? Is there a deeper message here or is it just happening because it’s funny?

The idea of God of Carnage is a great one, with plenty to get your teeth into and delve deeper into. The problem is, it doesn’t do that, and it seems as though much is lost in translation from the original French.

There are some excellent elements, however, and the acting is certainly one of them. Freema Agyeman and Martin Hutson play the Novaks, parents of Bruno who has lost his teeth but may not be the victim he was made out to be initially, and Dinita Gohil and Ariyon Bakare plays the Raleighs, parents of Ferdinand who may or may not have been provoked into violence. Each is able to play off one another, each one siding with someone else at random moments, changing their opinions and their minds – even about their own children – seemingly on the say-so of a virtual stranger (usually showing the gaps and cracks in their marriages at the same time).

That’s some good acting, but doesn’t make good characters. None of them are particularly likeable or recognisable enough to want to follow through to the very bitter end. What happens to them after this confrontation? Well, judging from the amount of rum consumed, we’ll assume they have the most stunning hangovers, but after that…who knows!

Something that absolutely needs commending in God of Carnage, though, is the incredible set design by Lily Arnold. The set consists of an elegant, modern, minimalist living room in creams and whites, on a raised circular platform. Initially, this seems like nothing important, but gradually, very, very gradually, we realise that the platform is a turntable, and the set is moving, rotating at a snail’s pace so that you hardly notice until you spot that a piece of furniture is in a new place. With skilled direction from Nicholai La Barrie, the actors are able to make use of this motion, moving around the set with ease to showcase every single side of it and in doing so, every single side of the story. And, just like the set is going in circles, so too is the conversation – there is no resolution. But unlike the set, there’s not much revolution either.

*** Three stars

Reviewed by: Lisamarie Lamb

God of Carnage plays at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until 30 September, with further information here.