The Pain And The Itch: My So-Called Liberal Life

"We are so not rich!," insists Clay (Christopher Evan Welch), the hyperly liberal stay-at-home father in Bruce Norris' wonderfully vicious and somewhat disturbing dark comedy, The Pain and The Itch.From the sharp and stylish, ultra-modern looks of his home, dominated by a wide-screen TV and enhanced by religious artwork from Africa and Asia (terrific set choices by Dan Ostling), it seems that he and his lawyer wife, Kelly (Mia Barron), are at least pretty well off.But personal perspective is a tricky thing in this satire of smart, educated and supposedly open-minded ladder-climbers whose left-wing activism is generally defined by watching PBS.

Thanksgiving Day, America's traditional centerpiece for dysfunctional family fun, is the setting, but the story is told in flashback for the benefit of Mr. Hadid (Peter Jay Fernandez), a Muslim cab driver who is visiting the home of this white family for reasons that are unclear for most of the play.He is a quiet man, unassumingly observing the goings-on and gently asking questions in regards to the lifestyle of his hosts.Also very quiet is Clay and Kelly's 5-year-old daughter, Kayla (Ada-Marie L. Gutierrez and Vivien Kells alternate in the role), who has developed a painful and itchy skin condition in her vaginal area.Clay secretly asks his Republican plastic surgeon brother Cassius, nicknamed Cash (Reg Rogers in snarky heaven), to take a look at his daughter, alone.(As a pair, the brothers were named after Cassius Clay, the Muslim boxer who changed his name to Mohammad Ali and was willing to go to jail for his religious and political beliefs.)

Also on hand is Cash's much younger Russian girlfriend, Kalina (Aya Cash), who can speak with solemnity about the importance of visiting Ground Zero and then show off her expensive new boots without missing a beat.Though Cash verbally abuses her, Kalina is giddy to be in America after surviving personal horrors in her homeland.Cash and Clay's mom, Carol (the subtly abusive Jayne Houdyshell) is a first grade teacher who tries to pass off her complaints about American blacks as simple cultural difference, unlike Kalina who bluntly voices her disgust. 

Talk of racial prejudice, pornography, war atrocities, child abuse and rape all find their way into holiday conversation, with a sharpened barb to fit each occurrence, while little Kayla quietly remains within earshot.In this household, protecting the child from the cruel outside world means discouraging games involving make-up or pretend violence. Though Norris' dialogue is sharp and funny, the child's continual presence is a dark reminder of the possibilities that may have caused her condition. 

Matters involving the family's foreign-born housekeeper and the suspicion that some kind of rodent is loose in the house are eventually tied into issues of class and bigotry.As the playwright slowly fits puzzle pieces together in his sweet time, director Anna D. Shapiro's light touch builds momentum until the tragedy and ridiculousness of the situation combine in a savage climax of insensitivity.You may be ashamed to find yourself laughing, but at least that'll put you on moral high-ground over this bunch. 

Photos by Joan Marcus:Top: (back) Christopher Evan Welch, Jayne Houdeyshell and Mia Barron; (front) Ada-Marie L. Gutierrez and Aya Cash

Bottom:Ada-Marie L. Gutierrez and Jayne Houdyshell