THEATER REVIEW:Home improvement brings forth dark comedy

Remember the movie “The War of the Roses”?

Images from that flick may spring to mind as you watch “The Master of the House,” an import from Israel now receiving its American premiere at the Laguna Playhouse.

In both stories, home sweet home turns into a battleground. Shmuel Hasfari’s “Master,” in this translation from the original Hebrew, pits a man and wife against one another on the issue of home remodeling, escalating the level of conflict to its inevitable conclusion.

Hasfari has created both a comedy bordering on the farcical and a sobering drama rooted in tragedy with this lengthy exercise, ably directed by Richard Stein. The play, which checks in at nearly three hours, has a good deal of meat on its bones, as well as a few chunks of excisable fat.

The playwright focuses on Yoel and Nava, a 30ish couple living in the apartment that’s been passed down from his parents — and which she wants to renovate. The sticking point is, it’s actually her place, purchased with inherited funds from Holocaust reparation. Thus, the consternation over who actually is the play’s title character.

For Yoel, any alteration is a desecration — he grew up in the house and clings to his childhood memories. Nava would prefer to level the place and start over. Both are beyond stubborn to the point that it’s difficult to root for either.

Surrounding these combatants are Yoel’s parents, a meddlesome mother and a father tottering on the edge of senility; Yoel’s brother and sister-in-law, bearers of their own issues, and a local contractor and his son, ostensibly bound for military service.

There’s also the couple’s child, who may or may not be who he seems. Jonathan Goldstein enacts the pressured Yoel with a heavy heart, a laid-back soul with less and less of substance to lay back on.

Stacie Chaiken is an unbending virago as Nava, an emasculating time bomb who explodes in a pyrotechnic but somewhat uneven sequence late in the first act.

The play’s finest performance, if perhaps its briefest, comes from Joseph Cardinale as the rest home-bound father who’s slipping gradually over the edge — a searing depiction of comedic dementia. Bryna Weiss as his nagging wife adds dimension to a stereotypical role.

Barry Alan Levine brings a rakish charm to his role as Yoel’s philandering brother. His wife, a buttoned-down psychologist, is given a steely interpretation by Elizabeth Tobias.

Young Tyler Logan is fine as the boy who may exist only in memory. Where Hasfari veers off the track slightly is in his depiction of a contractor (Andrew Ross Wynn) whose son (Brett Ryback) is either trying desperately to get into the Army or striving equally fervently to avoid the service, depending on which scene you believe.

Though both actors impress, this tacked-on subplot occupies an inordinate amount of stage time at the height of the central conflict.

As a scenic backdrop, designer Narelle Sissons has created a blueprint — literally — for conflict, with each area of the home precisely mapped out, while sparsely furnished. Tom Ruzika’s lighting and Julie Keen’s costumes enhance the production considerably.

“The Master of the House” delves into other areas of Israeli life — suicide bombings, soccer fanaticism — which may not ring with particular clarity on this side of the Atlantic, but which are integral to Hasfari’s play and its setting. As a theatrical meal, it’s a banquet, though some portions may be overfilling.