WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT ANNE FRANK at the Marylebone Theatre

★★★★

“this drama is pure, clean, rich with luxuries, well-engineered and superbly constructed”

In this visceral dissection of modern Judaism, what greets us first is designer Anna Fleischle’s super chic compact kitchen island: clean lines, cream with marble tops.

Plenty of space also to host that massive elephant in the room. But, in keeping with the metaphor, we’ll ignore that till later.

First, we’re expecting a dinner party, some light bantz, kosher nibbles, and plenty of nostalgia as two former best friends Debbie (Caroline Catz) and Shoshana (Dorothea Myer-Bennett) – both excellent – reunite after an uneasy separation. Both are burdened with regrets and simmering resentments.

Debbie’s husband and reluctant co-host Phil (Joshua Malina) is not happy. Debbie has an equivocal relationship with her Jewishness and he fears orthodox Shoshana will lure his wife away from her liberal life in Florida.

Shoshana and Yerucham (unexpected scene stealer Simon Yadoo) live in straitened circumstances in Jerusalem with eight – count ’em – eight children, working for God and the Jewish state. One couple has everything, the other couple feels superior.

At the beginning, on some point of etiquette, Shoshana says, “Your house, your rules. We don’t judge.”

And so follows two hours of brutal, hilarious, heart-rending judging, which goes both ways and escalates. Boy, does it escalate.

The play is based on Nathan Englander’s 2012 New Yorker article and the title refers to a game of trust – who would you ask to hide you away should the Nazis come?

The ridiculously talented Patrick Marber came in on an adaptation and the production carries many of his hallmarks, notably the humour, which is quippy and clever. Every cast member – especially Aaron Sorkin favourite Malina – has great comic sensibilities and they land the punchlines every time.

You’re never more than five minutes away from a doozy. Referring to his wife’s self-lacerating fascination with Jewish suffering, Phil calls the kitchen “a holocaust-themed food court”.

And so to the elephant. As director Marber and Englander were working on the adaptation, October 7 happened, the Hamas atrocity provoking Israel’s scorched earth reaction.

In response, Marber and Englander set up a couple of well-drilled, well-balanced examinations, the Floridians horrified by the slaughter, the Israelis talking about their right to exist.

It is a necessary addition, but uneasy. Throughout the play, the two couples mine their own – often moving – experiences to make their arguments, so a set piece debate about the rights and wrongs of a Middle East war arrives like a gatecrasher.

To introduce more division, we have Debbie and Phil’s slouchy, cynical son Trevor – a sharp cameo by Gabriel Howell. Something of a stoner and activist, his challenging of convention is so great he breaks the fourth wall to keep us in the loop, at one point urging the foursome to see if they can’t get through the next scene without fighting.

His point is perhaps the most telling. While the secular Jews and the Hasidic couple are taking lumps out of each other, indulging in the vanity of small differences, the world is burning. His generation is doomed while the adults in the room do nothing.

“We pray,” says pompous Yerucham, as a counter punch.

Like the kitchen, this drama is pure, clean, rich with luxuries, well-engineered and superbly constructed. Four heavyweights are on good form and take on a difficult theme with deft and precision. Also, did I mention, very, very funny.

Mazel tov, brilliant is what it is.