Are you eccentric enough to believe in the soothing power of culture? Theatre is meant to be culture. Dark comedies are meant to be funny. And Yasmina Reza’s darkish-comedy God of Carnage (as translated by Christopher Hampton) certainly has its moments in the upstairs cabaret theatre space of Cockpit in Court, the first of two non-musicals included in the 2026 summer season. Directed by Gabriel Lewin, this edgy dark deviance divulges into the territory of “what happens when adults behave like children and fail to act like th grown-ups that they’re pretending to be?”

I’ve seen shows in the cabaret theatre space of Cockpit in Court since 2012, both musicals (a rarity for ‘upstairs’) and non-musicals. I’ve even seen God of Carnage a handful of times in my 15 years a reviewer. And this production was a little bumpy. We give grace to acting skill sets of all levels at the community level, after all it’s a labor of love and nobody on stage is getting paid. And in this particular production it was uneven, though a lot of the show’s issues came from Director Gabriel Lewin. There were pacing issues, which is unfathomable because the show still managed to come in at a soft 80-minute run time. But there were moments where beats are written into the script that were being rushed over, not being allowed to breathe and settle, and then there were moments where dialogue and action exchanges should have been clipping along but instead pauses or awkward falters were happening. Lewin also doesn’t seem to have a firm handle on blocking/directing a show in the round. While the stage itself is an X-wing fighter setup, the audience is seated around it on all sides and there was a lot of backs-facing-all-sides. There was also a curious amount of moving and chair-hopping for the sake of not having static actors on stage. If there was an intention behind this— like a strong character choice developed out of nerves or annoyance— it was never made clear, and a lot of times it felt like characters were hopping up and moving around to simply avoid being seated in any one position for too long. There’s also a ‘special effect’ that was either ill-timed or ill-executed and the blocking around it was convoluted (perhaps in an attempt to hide the mechanism) and the result was somewhat delayed.

What was really striking, from the technical component of the production was Aaron S. Adams’ lighting design. There’s a window off to one of the X-wing exit paths that has these sublime orange, yellow, and pink hues, which were gradually lowering and getting deeper as the ‘time’ in the play passed, very clearly highlighting sunset. It was truly remarkable and flawlessly executed. What was less stunning was the cheap symbolic effect when one of the characters literally says “God of Carnage” and the window flushed red (which I had very much hoped was then going to stay red and sink into crepuscular purples and blacks) only to go back to ‘sunset shades’ after the moment had passed. That, though likely a directorial choice, was a tad on the side of overkill.

The scenery was a curious hodgepodge of phony opulence mixed with a lack of cohesivity, but this actually felt specifically intentional coming out of Andi Pfluger’s set design. It’s revealed later that the Veronica and Michael Novak, whose home is where the play takes place, aren’t exactly the upper-class perfect house that the Veronica character wishes they were. Tasteful décor and props are here and there, though Properties Manager Cathy Kratovil needed to find a different decanter (one that didn’t have Rye etched so visibly into the glass when they made reference to it being Rum over a dozen times whilst waving it around.) This wouldn’t matter if this particular decanter were on the main stage, you wouldn’t be able to see it, but within the infinite confines of the upstairs cabaret, a good third of your audience (anyone seated at the tables immediately at the stage line) will see everything. Devil’s in the details and this probably would have gone unnoticed if the overall pacing of the show, general delivery of the levels expression and emotions were more polished. Costume Designer Lizzie Jaspan deserves a nod; the costumes fit the 2008 timestamp vibe for the two married couples and nobody had a wardrobe malfunction.

The show was carried by the women— Rebecca Ellis as Annette Raleigh and Laura Weeldreyer as Veronica Novak, with Weeldreyer’s character doing much of the driving. Ellis has an incredible sense of reactive timing and glorious facial expressions, particularly once she goes through her ‘I’m going to be sick’ incident. She has this exquisite tension that she fires out at her husband Alan (Will Sullivan), spitting verbal nails through clenched teeth in that “we are not doing this in public” fashion. Ellis drives the ‘barely keeping civil’ tones of nearly every exchange between her Annette and Sullivan’s Alan. There is a detached aloofness to Sullivan’s Alan that occasionally reads clearly but at other times reads more hollow and less as a definitive character choice. Sullivan’s Alan stagnates somewhat at a middling level and stays on that emotional/delivery plateau for the entirety of the performance. But where Sullivan’s performance lacks, Ellis’ thrives, especially when it comes to her body language. Watching her from the before-during-after arch of the ‘I’m going to be sick’ experience is actually quite thrilling, if not a little grotesque. And she wins a prize acting moment when she’s stumbling around the set drunken and barefoot (one of the truest, intentional movements in Lewin’s blocking of the show) bemoaning ‘shoulder bags.’

Laura Weeldreyer gives an epic performance and if there’s a flaw to it, it’s that Lewin rushes her through that final one-way conversation on the telephone with the daughter regarding the hamster. While the text begs for a false glee and cloyingly chipper expression, her character has also just literally been through the wars and she’s been drinking. One might expect that forced- ‘yes, sweetie’ thing that parents do when they have to pull themselves together and put on a smile to shield their children from harsh reality, but instead there’s a sugar-rush energy that infiltrates her delivery and just makes it feel like an odd, almost slapstick way to end the play. That strange moment aside, Weeldreyer lands a meticulously nuanced performance with varying levels, delivers a series of emotional explosions that hit peaks and valleys in a natural fashion and ultimately has a stage presence that is mirrored by Ellis and attempts to guide Sullivan and Hoss Parvizian, playing Veronica’s husband, Michael Novak.

The dynamic in the text between Weeldreyer’s Veronica and Parvizian’s Michael is one of contention. She’s more of a smackdown boss and he’s more of a ‘yes dear.’ Parvizian has a few moments that are really engaging and while he has vocal levels that erupt from too soft to too loud, the character arch and overall levels feel flat. Though it could be said that as the neanderthal character (a phrase pulled directly from the play) that this lack of presence is intentional, though that doesn’t feel like it’s the case.

Ultimately the audience seemed to chuckle a fair bit and the play definitely hit some laugh moments that were dark and wildly funny. It’s a unique show for sure and the women are certainly bringing and delivering an A-game of performance in this one-act dark comedy.

Running Time: Approximately 80 minutes with no intermission

God of Carnage plays through June 28^th 2026 with Cockpit in Court in the upstairs Cabaret Space of The Robert and Eleanor Romadka College Center at the Community College of Baltimore County Essex Campus— 7201 Rossville Boulevard, Essex MD. For tickets call the box office at (443) 840-2787 or purchase them online.