Bad Jews review

Joshua Harmon’s 2012 Off-Broadway dark comedy, the provocatively-titled Bad Jews, tells the story of Daphna and her cousins Liam and Jonah, who are forced together following the funeral of their grandfather ("Poppy"), a Holocaust survivor.

In a sleek but impersonal studio apartment designed by Richard Kent – Liam and Jonah’s parents are so wealthy they have a second apartment in their fancy building for when the boys need to crash – the family argues over who gets Poppy’s heirloom chai (a piece of religious jewellery) while discussing how they relate to Judaism and the impact it has on their life choices.

Michael Longhurst’s zippy production was first performed at Bath’s Ustinov Studio in 2014 and transferred to the Arts Theatre the following year. Jon Pashley helms this revival.

Impressively, despite innumerable changes to the cultural landscape since the play was first performed, it doesn’t feel all that dated.

Daphna (formerly Diana), a senior at the super liberal Vassar College, plans to emigrate to Israel after graduation to join her soldier boyfriend and study with a feminist vegan rabbi. With a flair for the dramatic and pride in her lack of filter, she needles Liam’s ditzy shiksa girlfriend Melody about her treble-clef tattoo and lack of curiosity about her family’s origins before they arrived in Delaware (in Daphna’s words, “to perpetuate genocide against the indigenous population”). Played at full-throttle throughout, Rosie Yadid’s performance is as expansive as the voluminous hair she obsessively brushes.

Ashley Margolis brings an ambivalent complacency to Daphna’s nemesis Liam, who missed Poppy’s funeral due to dropping his phone down a ski lift in Aspen. With a habit of being snide about Judaism, he suggests that “Super Jew” Daphna is performative in her intergenerational trauma and appropriating her ancestors’ suffering. As the quietest member of the quartet, Charlie Beaven’s Jonah is lanky and impassive – giving the impression of being (understandably) terrified of his formidable cousin and her suggestion that they hang out more often.

Outsider Melody (Olivia Le Andersen) never feels more than a caricature. Dressed in pink with a Lucy Worsley bob – complete with hairslide – she performs an excruciating rendition of the Gershwins’ Summertime and tries to act as peacemaker with trite platitudes: “We’re all human beings… I don’t notice that you’re Jewish!”

Despite the play’s flaws, this is a vigorous and multifaceted work, and opportunities to see more of Harmon’s work on this side of the pond would be welcome.