Jesse Eisenberg’s The Spoils has some of the ingredients of an American soap. A group of friends in an apartment. Confession. Envy. Lots of gags. A group-hug ending. Yet it constantly surprises. A crucial wet dream is described in detail. It is about excrement. The central character, played by Eisenberg himself, sneers at everyone, high on wealth, dope and his finely honed taunts. Of course, it is gratifying to non-billionaires to think that affluence comes with built-in discontent. But just because the person sneering at you is a nasty piece of work does not mean you are in the clear. Scarcely anyone is entirely let off the sceptical hook.
The plot is wispy. The play is a spillikins of sentences: jibes and jokes elegantly recur. Alfie Allen (a slack-jawed banker) and Kunal Nayyar (the sweet-natured room-mate) are outstanding. Eisenberg is terrific. Eyes darting like tadpoles, fingers twitching like a monkey’s, tongue flickering venom like a snake.
