Dysfunctional families getting together for the holidays are a staple of indie films, but writer/director Stephen Karam takes a slightly different approach to this familiar set-up for his debut feature, The Humans. Adapting his Tony-winning stage play, Karam turns the Blake family's Thanksgiving into a horror show without anyone ever raising their voice. The issues that the Blakes face are nothing new, but Karam's approach gives every argument a sense of existential dread that goes beyond familial squabbles and delves into the uncanny.
The main source of dread is The Humans' setting -- a rundown, seemingly ancient New York City apartment building. That's where the Blakes have gathered, in the new home of daughter Brigid (Beanie Feldstein) and her boyfriend Richard (Steven Yeun). Brigid and Richard have just moved in, so the apartment is mostly bare, aside from a makeshift dinner table surrounded by folding chairs. It's a simultaneously vast and cramped space. The Manhattan-based apartment spans two levels, with rooms connected by narrow corridors.
An early scene of the family attempting to maneuver grandmother Momo's wheelchair into the apartment is an indication of how Karam will handle the awkwardness of the evening. He shoots the action from a distance with a static long take, letting the discomfort play out for longer than it seems like the audience can bear. The Humans is an uncomfortable viewing experience that only gets more disquieting as it goes along, even when seemingly nothing upsetting is happening onscreen.
Karam fills The Humans with unexplained and alarming sounds, all of which can be attributed to the old building's structure but are deployed like jump scares. The tone of The Humans creates the feeling that something horrifying is just about to happen. Its horrors are more mundane, though, mostly just the everyday terror of existence. Parents Erik (Richard Jenkins) and Deirdre (Jayne Houdyshell, who originated the role on stage) offer plenty of passive-aggressive criticisms of their daughters, Brigid and Aimee (Amy Schumer), who are dealing with personal and professional struggles.
The devoutly Catholic parents not-so-gently attempt to push their daughters back toward the church while also offering pointed criticisms of the women's chosen professions. Brigid is an aspiring musician working as a retail manager. Erik, in particular, is dismissive of her artistic ambitions and disapproves of her decision to live in New York City. He's still traumatized from his experience on 9/11, which Karam folds in as just another bit of free-floating dread infusing modern existence. Aimee is a more conventionally successful lawyer living in Philadelphia; although, she's barely holding herself together following career setbacks and a disastrous breakup with her girlfriend.
Erik and Deirdre may get on their daughters' nerves with concerns that aren't justified, but they aren't monstrous parents. The point of The Humans isn't to portray the Blakes as the kind of casually cruel family of stage-to-screen adaptations like Carnage or August: Osage County. They may be traditional Catholics, but they are also open and accepting of Aimee's sexuality, with no indication they ever disapproved. They're clumsy and out-of-touch at times, in reference to LGBTQ+ issues and also to Brigid's interracial relationship, but never in a malicious way.
And yet, the family still seems like it's falling apart. The flickering lights, mysterious stains, paint bubbles, and crumbling fixtures in the apartment all come off as reflections of the family itself. As the night goes on, revelations come to light that punctures some of the characters' facades of stability. The Alzheimer's-afflicted Momo (June Squibb) sits like a warning of things to come, speaking only in nonsensical outbursts. Every conversation feels like it could devolve into animosity at any moment. It's as if the decay of the building has infected the people inside it. Karam often shoots scenes in fixed long shots, as if the camera is standing back, too afraid to get close to the characters.
Sound carries easily through the empty apartment, so characters are always overhearing conversations meant to be private. Karam incorporates many of those conversations into the film's ambient sound design. He'll often follow one character as they wander off for a moment of peace as other characters continue talking in the background. As the dialogue from the other room becomes muffled and indistinct, both viewer and character strain to hear what's being said.
The stars all give fully realized performances, from reliable character actor Jenkins to comedy star Schumer in a rare dramatic role. There's a believable sense of love and acceptance right alongside the awkwardness and resentment -- a mix that's present in nearly every family. The Blakes aren't fascinating because they're unique, but because they reflect common, even unremarkable challenges. The achievement of The Humans is to render those unremarkable challenges startling and otherworldly, while never leaving the confines of an average apartment.
The Humans opens Wednesday, Nov. 24 in select theaters and streaming on Showtime, with a broadcast at 8 p.m. ET/PT.