It’s ironic that French playwright Yasmina Reza has spent her career trying to satisfy the western bourgeoisie, as her new joint venture with Roman Polanski now pokes well-observed, if not mild, fun at them. Based on Reza’s 2006 play The God of Carnage (oddly named Lay Waste to England for Me originally), Polanski’s adaptation tells of, in real time, the seemingly convivial chat between the Longstreets (John C. Reilly, Jodie Foster) and the Cowans (Christoph Waltz, Kate Winslet) after their sons Ethan and Zachary are involved in a scuffle. But it isn’t long before their behaviour rivals that of their kids’.

At a crisp eighty minutes, it doesn’t take long for this bedroom farce to kick in. Winslet plays the typically reserved middle-class professional, diplomatic in her assertions yet frosty in her arguments. Every opportunity she clutches at to leave is pulled away by Reilly and Foster as the sociable hosts, offering tea, coffee and even some peach cobbler (‘sorry it’s cold’ laughs Reilly, awkwardly). Before long, they’ve taken to the scotch and cigars, discussing the nature of crime and justice in society using their kids as templates for a much wider comment on how we address issues largely dominated by opinion (‘the victim and the criminal are not the same’ shrieks Foster, her banshee-like style characterising about 95% of her dialogue).

With a dull sense of schadenfreude, Waltz seems to relish the conflict as he plays an everyman lawyer, constantly on his phone and seeming to drift in and out of the feud – much to the frustration of all involved. There is a subtle footnote here which Polanski inserts with fairly muted direction; Waltz’s character represents that spirit in all of us who savour the chance to assert our intelligence or expertise to engage in some kind of heightened discourse – obviously it’s bullshit most of the time – but signals those edgy moments after a few drinks where courtesy is abandoned and gut-reaction is employed.

You do long for a more testing, fiercer discourse however; the gags remain light, albeit hilarious, and there’s a sense that this thickening tension cannot be captured as well on-screen as it can on-stage – which makes the whole thing come across as a little tame. It’s also a bizarre choice for Polanski, who we’ve come to recognise for creating lively thrillers which throw us more vigorously against the paradigms of modern society and force us to reflect and challenge. With this, it feels like he’s taking a break to have a little jab at the middle-class; since that area of society is becoming ever-squeezed, perhaps something more resolute is needed.