THE HUMANS: FILM REVIEW
Stephen Karam’s The Humans is a slow descent into quiet madness — one that takes place over the course of a multi-generational Thanksgiving dinner. The Humans crawls with family secrets and repressed traumas which culminate with each seemingly innocent dinner-table conversation. Karam’s entire film, which is adapted from his Tony Award-winning play of the same name, is shot within the confines of Brigid (Beanie Feldstein) and her boyfriend Richard’s (Steven Yeun) new apartment in New York City. Brigid invites her parents, sister, and grandma for a Thanksgiving dinner that doubles as a housewarming — a term that, in this case, rings with irony. Brigid and Richard’s apartment is anything but cozy; loud thumping noises from the upstairs neighbors are impossible to ignore, paint dryly peels from the thinly coated walls, and light bulbs die with a pathetic sputter.
Brigid’s rickety apartment mirrors her unnerving family dynamics. Each member is on the brink of collapse — laughter and polite gestures act as topical cream to a wound that cuts deeper with each comment whispered under their breath. Each character’s most candid state is revealed in scenes that catch them during moments of solitude. Brigid’s sister Aimee (Amy Schumer) excuses herself to desperately call her ex-partner in the hallway. She is painfully rejected over the phone.
While at first glance, Brigid’s mom, Deidre, and her husband appear to be in a functioning marriage, it soon becomes clear that they are both carrying the burden of a secret that is hidden away from their kids. The camera closely follows mucus slowly dripping down the wall; close-up shots of the apartment’s details emphasize the way that the space acts as its own devilish character. Erik, a former school janitor, is most irked by these small inconveniences; his anxious observations reflect his collapsing mental state.
The not-so-friendly banter between Brigid and Deidre also reveals a history of tension in their relationship; Deidre jumps at any mention of her weight and frequently makes snarky remarks about Aimee being a lesbian. Aimee reveals that she suffers from ulcerative colitis and recently lost her job. However, she assures her parents that she is doing just fine. Erik’s mother, Momo, has dementia and is wheelchair-bound. When she opens her mouth, it is largely to let out a wail — one that bounces around the apartment’s echoey walls. With spiral stairs and no in-unit elevator, the apartment is not accommodating to the family member most in need.
Perhaps the most peaceful scene in all of The Humans is when Brigid and Richard go up to the roof to catch a breath of fresh air. It is the only moment that the couple is able to escape the claustrophobia of their new apartment, despite exhaustion being written all over their faces. As the only member of the table not related by blood, Richard plays the outside character. His introspection into Brigid’s white, middle-class family moves conversation along, while also exposing their inherent differences. No matter how hard Richard tries to fit in, he never quite gets it right, as each pleasant comment makes an awkward turn, followed by forced laughter. In an intensive observation, Karam uses each member of Brigid and Richard’s dinner as pawns to study the dynamics of families — and the lies and secrets embedded which aim to keep them afloat.