As her oblivious mom, Smith is particularly nasty; her Kelly is smart, knows it, and is in the habit of using it to cripple others. The lanky Fling, as Clay, delivers both excellent comedy and a very nuanced portrait of insecurity, as he drums his knees, waves flaccid fists, and smiles through his weak protests of "Don't act like I'm incompetent." He also shows great range once Clay is finally struck dumb and angry, when all his ineffectual physical mannerisms fall away. And Mr. Hadid's evolving reaction to all of them, in the hands of the subtle but acute Walters, is our one lifeline to sanity, as his mostly silent expression shifts from bemusement to stupefaction to full-on horror.
His (and our) horror goes out to this one family but also, by Norris's prodding, to something more macro: a self-righteous, passive-aggressive, condescending, culturally toxic America.
Carol and Kelly make much of the need to listen to the world's "poor underprivileged people," but you sure won't want these folks running any NGOs, especially once a final plot twist shows what they've actually wrought of their own family. That this last revelation is both appalling and banal, both a clever clincher and a cheating cheap-shot, is surely part of Norris's point. If your post-turkey complacency leaves you feeling a little too cozy, earnest, and self-satisfied, The Pain and the Itch should do the trick.
Megan Grumbling can be reached at mgrumbling@hotmail.com.
THE PAIN AND THE ITCH by Bruce Norris | Directed by Todd Hunter | Produced by Rolling Die Productions | at the Players' Ring, in Portsmouth NH | through November 30 | 603.436.8123
