4.5 Stars – The Written Play, 5 Stars – The Play in a Production

Per New York Times, Stephen Karam’s works are “…often noted about loss - of love, of health, of innocence - and the messy, haphazard, necessary ways we get on with our lives afterward. He isn't big on happy endings, but several of his play offer at least some hope that human connection and resilience will help the characters through. And if that fails, they'll probably find some other way to keep going." ‘The Humans’ fall squarely within this feeling.

The Blake family’s younger daughter, Brigid, and her boyfriend, Richard, newly moved into their old but roomy apartment in Chinatown, New York, and are hosting Thanksgiving dinner for the family. Father - Erik, Mother - Deirdre, Grandma - Momo, and older sister - Aimee arrive for the feast. With a two-floor stage of creaky floors, thin walls, and appliances that go bump in the night, it’s the perfect setting for hidden angst (financial worries, lack of career, different values), frustrations (loss of love, pending job loss), ghost of the past (9/11 tragedy), and new mistakes (spoiler, won’t say this one) to surface. The characters are deeply flawed and real. There are so many layers that I can type several pages, but it’s better if you read it and/or see it. I will say, the most powerful was Momo’s dementia. Her mental absence more than her physical presence spoke volumes on the potential journey that we face.

I was extremely pleased with the production at the Seattle Repertoire Theatre that I continued onto reading the play. The produced play is powerful, the physicality of overlapping conversations, the haunting setting, and Momo, wow, Momo’s dementia outburst was shockingly painful. In a rare exception to ‘the book is better’, the written text, though provided nuance, lacked the strength of the produced work. There is less stage directions as I have read in other plays. It’s closer to a script with a focus on the unspoken words included in brackets. It’s not necessarily lacking, but it does leave more to interpret for the reader and/or production manager.

Least favorite character: Brigid – portrait of a grown-up whiny brat

See the show, read the book. Accept how messed up life truly is; go forth and embrace it!

Below is a letter that Momo wrote the girls four years prior, when she knows she will be losing her mental capacity.
“‘Dear Aimee and Brigid, I was clumsy around you both today and felt confused. I couldn’t remember your names and felt bad about that. It’s strange slowly becoming someone I don’t know. But while I am still here, I want to say: Don’t worry about me once I drift off for good. I’m not scared. If anything, I wish I could’ve known that most of the stuff I did spend my life worrying about wasn’t so bad. Maybe it’s because this disease has me forgetting the worst stuff, but right now I’m feeling nothing about this life was worth getting so worked up about. Not even dancing at weddings.’
The Blakes smile. They have inside understanding of this remark.
‘Dancing at weddings always scared the crap out of me, but now it doesn’t seem like such a big deal. This is taking me forever to type. Consider this my fond farewell. Erin go brah. Dance more than I did. Drink less than I did. Go to church. Be good to everyone you love. I love you more than you’ll ever know.’” ( )

I wish I had liked it more. The dialogue cast a spell, but ultimately this was thin. Reminded me of Albee when he falls short. ( )

Stephen Karam's disquieting script of a family gathering for Thanksgiving is excellent on several levels - literally. Set in the NYC duplex apartment of one adult daughter and her boyfriend, the plot reveals the underlying problems typical of a family. This is a family that loves one another, so it never gets too ugly. The action takes place on both levels of the apartment, simultaneously at times. I'd love to see a production. ( )