A look at good ‘Anger’ management

John Osborne’s “Look Back in Anger” opened in London with a huge bang in 1956, upending staid British theater and helping usher the era of “angry young men” — smart, educated, working- or middle-class, and riled up by their lack of access in post-WWII society.

The highly combustible engine at the heart of “Look Back in Anger” is Jimmy Porter — played by Matthew Rhys, of TV’s “Brothers & Sisters,” in this new Roundabout revival.

Jimmy’s got to be one of the most unpleasant lead characters of the century: Only in his mid-20s, he’s already pickled in a toxic brine of resentment and powerless frustration. He’s especially jerky toward women, making the show a tough sell to the gender that buys 60 percent of New York theater tickets.

Director Sam Gold (currently on Broadway with “Seminar”) hasn’t entirely solved “Look Back in Anger.” Despite cuts, the play’s still too long, and the two male actors aren’t always convincing. But Gold’s bold, imaginative staging makes a strong case for Osborne in the 21st century.

The action takes place in the dingy apartment shared by Jimmy and his wife, Alison (the excellent Sarah Goldberg, like January Jones with a soul). A lodger named Cliff (Adam Driver) also spends a lot of time there, reading newspapers and roughhousing with Jimmy while Alison does all the chores. (The character of her father has been cut.)

This being the Roundabout, you expect painstakingly detailed lodgings. But Gold and set designer Andrew Lieberman opted for a radically different approach. They cut off most of the stage with a black wall, leaving only a cramped area upfront, with space for a few basic props — this is kitchen-sink drama without a kitchen sink.

The effect is an effective rendering of the way Cliff describes the relationship between Jimmy and Alison: “Most of the time, it’s simply a very narrow strip of plain hell.”

Jimmy takes out his rage on his wife and her well-off background — though Gold smartly shows that the battle of the sexes is as important as the class war. Rhys lacks the brutality expected of Jimmy, who callously trades Alison for her friend Helena (Charlotte Parry). He wallows in victimized self-righteousness while someone else irons his clothes.

But the actor does excel at making Jimmy’s flashes of sensitivity believable.

“Why do you try so hard to be unpleasant?” Helena asks him. She understands there’s more to him than mere macho nastiness — and the production makes us get it, too.

elisabeth.vincentelli@nypost.com