Antisemitism is more unsettling than murder in the radio adaptation of David Mamet’s latest drama
In what is undoubtedly a scoop for BBC Radio 4, stellar Jewish playwright David Mamet has reimagined his new thriller. The Christopher Boy’s Communion is directed by Martin Jarvis and stars Mamet’s wife Rebecca Pidgeon as Joan, the she-wolf who will stop at nothing to defend her cub. Her motherly nature sure is red in tooth and claw.
Devout Catholic she might be, but Joan is more a Manhatten Lady Macbeth than Virgin Mary; and the son she is determined to save from conviction has committed a grisly murder in Central Park. The victim is his blameless girlfriend Jenny – a ‘nice Jewish girl’ who is, for the blatantly antisemitic Joan, “that little Jewish tart”.
In short, tense, almost brutal exchanges, she wipes the floor with her ineffectual husband Alan (Clark Gregg, like Pidgeon and the rest of the cast, reprising his role in the US stage premiere) and treats with frank contempt the Jewish lawyer she plans to take on in his defence. David Paymer’s Mr Stone gives as good as he gets though. Joan may not admit it, but his replies flirt ironically with the image of the money-grabbing Jewish lawyer. In reply to her question, “What will free my son?” his pitch is designed to ensure he fails to get this assignment: “It’s an easy case to lose… My time would have cost you a fortune. You live with a tragedy and I buy a new boat.”
So where to turn? Joan never misses Mass and is a generous donor to her church, as her priest Father Paul (John Pirruccello) freely admits. The play’s title refers to the lifecycle celebration first communion (usually for youngsters aged between seven and 13, so a comparable rite of passage to bar/bat mitzvah), a service Joan never misses and which prompts her latest donation.
Mamet and Pidgeon in rehearsals © Pam Susemiehl
Joan is out to recruit the reluctant priest to help create doubt in the minds of the jury about the “little slut of a Jew who lured my son”, suggesting that by evoking the confidentiality of the confessional, he could imply that there are shocking revelations he cannot share.
She goes on to suggest she might bribe the apparently poorly paid teachers at the school that both murderer and victim attended to muddy the waters with implications that the girlfriend was promiscuous and took – even dealt – drugs.
Above all Joan is not afraid to share her antisemitic attitude to the girl and her parents, even subtly evoking the blood libel. “She was a Jew and we do not live in that world. We do not believe in miscegenation. Our families inhabit different spheres. We do not have Jewish friends over for Christmas and we do not,” she pauses, “perform enchantment at their Passover feasts.”
I can go no further than revealing that Joan’s manipulations eventually lead her to the mysterious Mrs Charles (Fionnula Flanagan), who matches, even outdoes Joan. Can she really offer mind-bending services with shades of a Faustian pact? That’s for the listener to discover. The play’s revelations are not in the potentially apocalyptic climax, but in its unsettling journey.
By Judi Herman
All photos from the 2020 LA stage production
The Christopher Boy’s Communion is available to listen to until Wednesday 7 April. bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000sy37