What I liked
This is my fourth Benjamin Schwartz show over the past decade, and without hesitation, Dog of Carnage is his most mature and daring work to date. He’s taken serious artistic leaps—structurally, emotionally, and thematically. What begins as a verbal sparring match over the custody of a dog quickly unspools into something deeper: a kaleidoscopic dissection of love, trauma, codependence, and the gnawing ache of unmet need. It’s a small play with a massive heart, and it sticks with you like a bruise.
Spencer Weitzel and Callie Ott are a knockout duo. This is the kind of performance you chase as an audience member—feral, funny, and frighteningly honest. They shift gears on a dime, pulling us through laughter, rage, tenderness, and devastation in ways that feel both controlled and completely unhinged. Their chemistry is volcanic, but what’s most remarkable is the stillness they find in the storm. These aren’t characters—they’re people. Broken, specific, and terrifyingly real.
Director Natalie Dresser deserves praise for her sharp, kinetic staging. The rhythm she carves into the piece—those abrupt tonal pivots, the sudden drops into silence—gives the hour a shape that’s as musical as it is emotional. Nothing feels accidental. Every moment is considered, every beat earns its place.
And then there’s the writing. Schwartz has always had a way with language, but here, he’s found something new. The comedy cuts deeper. The wounds are more exposed. And the truth, when it lands, doesn’t shout—it whispers. This isn’t just a play about a breakup. It’s about how hard it is to tell the truth to someone who knows you. It’s about the long shadow of loss. It’s about who we become when the person we love reflects back the parts of us we’re trying hardest to bury.
The ending doesn’t reach for easy catharsis. It guts you in a quieter way—the kind that doesn’t release so much as it settles into your bones. There’s no resolution here, and that’s what makes it feel honest. Not all wounds close cleanly. Some just stay open.
If Dog of Carnage is any indication of where Benjamin Schwartz is headed as a playwright, then we’re witnessing a major voice fully stepping into his power. This isn’t just good Fringe theatre. This is a raw, electric reminder of what intimate storytelling can still do when it refuses to flinch.
See it. And bring someone you trust.
What I didn't like
I want more! Tack 20 more minutes on this bad boy.
My overall impression
Benjamin Schwartz and company hit one out of the park.
