By Colin Covert, Star Tribune (Minneapolis) | Is there another actress so fine at conveying piano-wire hypertension as Jodie Foster? Can any performer alive top Christoph Waltz at sardonic sullenness? If you’re casting for an affable lug or a skittish trophy wife, could you surpass John C. Reilly and Kate Winslet?
In a word, no. On these first-rate foundations Roman Polanski has built “Carnage,” a brilliantly discomfiting comedy of frustration. Two oh-so-civilized New York couples meet to call a truce between their 11-year-old sons, who’ve had a playground altercation. As espressos turn to Scotch, the little get-together becomes a tear-apart. The perfectly mannered adults spiral into rowdy chaos, scuffling like spoiled brats.
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