The Humans
Stephen Karam
Richard Thomas, Therese Plaehn, Pamela Reed, Daisy Eagan & Luis Vega |
A play where sound, light, and set play starring roles along
with a stellar cast and a hilarious and haunting script, Stephen Karam’s The Humans arrives in San Francisco as a
most welcome and anticipated part of SHN’s current Broadway season. Winner of the 2016 Tony Award for Best Play
(and 2016 finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama), The Humans is a slice-of-life of one family’s Thanksgiving dinner
during which spoonful heaps of mounting disappointments, personal fears, and
unshared news are served along with the welcome sides of sweet memories, silly
traditions, and deep love of core family.
Others’ hot buttons are ready targets to push; emotions run
roller-coaster routes; and something ominous lurks as lights flicker off
one-by-one and loud thuds and bumps interrupt without warning. And through it all, we learn that this family
named Blake are just as human as the rest of us, with many of the same quirks, hopes,
let-downs, and moments of sheer fright that any and all of us sometimes
experience.
Erik and Deirdre Blake have arrived from their home in
Scranton at the Manhattan apartment recently occupied by their daughter, Brigid
and her boyfriend, Richard – a two-level, rather run-down affair in Chinatown
within a few blocks of 9/11’s Ground Zero and smack-dab in the center of an
area of recent, repeated flooding. With
the parents have come their other daughter, Aimee, a lawyer, and Erik’s aged
mom in wheel chair (“Momo”), wrapped in a Philadelphia Eagles blanket and acting
rather comatose due to her advanced Alzheimer’s disease. As the guests arrive, final preparations are
underway for Thanksgiving dinner to be held on card tables and with plastic
ware, since the movers did not deliver on time.
Probably not unlike many parents entering for the first time
their kids’ first homes, Erik and Deirdre immediately let their opinions of the
new abode be known with a slew of skeptical comments somewhat cushioned by
well-intentioned hugs and smiles.
- Deirdre: “I wish you had more of
a view.” (Brigid: “It’s an internal
courtyard.”)
- Erik, peering at paint-peeling
walls with a look of mild shock: “I
think if you moved to Philadelphia, your quality of life would go up.” - Deirdre:
“Your bathroom does not have a window.
Love you. Just saying.”
As the family moves beyond those often awkward first few
moments when a holiday reunion begins not quite as one hoped but almost always
as one figured it would, conversations spring forth in twos, threes, and then
altogether, only to repeat old and new groupings on the two levels of the
apartment throughout the visit. Some
topics are continuations of years-long back-and-forths: “I know you don’t
believe, but she’s appearing everywhere ... Just put it in a drawer somewhere”
(Deirdre to Brigid upon presenting her a Virgin Mary). Some are that sudden, freeze-moment
announcement that just blurts out: “I am no longer on the partner track” (Aimee
to her stunned family). Some are yet
another attempt to change a family member’s annoying habit: “You don’t have to
text her every time a lesbian kills herself” (Brigid to her mom, with the ‘her’
being sister Aimee). And some are just
downright weird and a bit spooky, like Erik’s sharing a recurring dream of a
woman with no facial features inviting him to follow her into a lighted
tunnel.
In between, there is heartfelt laughter, deep-felt
resentment, touching moments of understanding, and knife-sharp insults all
mixed into an evening building toward a climax of revelations that shake the
family’s familiar foundation like an earthquake. And, we get to laugh a lot ourselves – with
them, at them, and even at ourselves for seeing reflections in this stage
mirror of our own family.
Pamela Reed is Deirdre Blake, the mother to whom the
playwright awards many of the funniest lines, especially in the first half of
the ninety-minute play. Deirdre is
office manager in the same company where she has worked for forty years,
earning a fraction of the young dudes now running it. She is full of firmly held opinions that she does
not hesitate to share (like her constant hints to Aimee and Richard about the
merits of marriage). Her advice and
observations are delivered sometimes in a mother’s kindest, most soothing voice
and sometimes pointed like an arrow aiming for a target well-known and
oft-visited. She struggles with failing
knees but takes the steep, spiral, metal steps to the second floor’s bathroom
like a soldier with no complaints. The
pained movements of her walking are probably only a fraction of the hurts she
conceals inside as we come to learn of past and present travails. The pride she holds for her family is in her eyes
that look on them with grateful admiration even as she has just heard daughters
making fun of her emails, making her in many ways an Every Mom to whom all of
us can relate.
Richard Thomas is a father who is bombastic and blustery
with his judgments and digs in one minute and who then melts in the next into
an understanding dad with his arms enveloping a tearful daughter. When Erik gets worked up and begins to boom
forth his vocal pronouncements, the entire neck and cheek surfaces of Richard
Thomas glow red. He is a dad who has
brought a survival kit of batteries, wind-up radio, and lantern (sure that this
apartment is in a danger zone). He is a career
materials and equipment guy at St. Paul’s Catholic School whose own ability to
help his wife, mother, and himself survive is in more question than the rest
know – at least yet know. Richard Thomas
– who many in the audience remember and love as John Boy from TV’s The Waltons – is increasingly
spell-bounding as the evening’s minutes continue to tick by, providing a final
scene that will remain etched in many a memory.
Daisy Reed & Therese Plaehn |
Daisy Eagan and Therese Plaehn each bring humor and heart as
well as vulnerability and stoic strength into their respective roles as the
sisters, Brigid and Aimee. Both characters
have career uncertainties stacking up on all sides around them with no real way
emerging how to succeed in the way they had once hoped. Aimee has serious physical issues (something
played out in her many trips to the bathroom, often with funny side comments)
and suffers still from a break-up with a girlfriend who has already found her
next partner. Brigid has a fiery streak that
can flare in an instant (especially ignited when around her mom) but also is
the uniting force that molds this group into a feeling of family, making sure
the songs and the traditions of the family continue here in her new home (like
smashing a candy pig in a poke while recounting a personal blessing). The external spunk and determination of Brigid
and the internal fragility yet resilience of Aimee are the hallmarks of two
outstanding performances by these fine actors.
Helping round out the remarkable ensemble is the amiable, good-natured
Richard Saad, a product of a household of an economic higher level than the
Blakes; and yet Luis Vega never lets his Richard act or say anything– at least
on purpose – that is meant to place himself on a higher rung than they. He is mostly a quiet observer of the
goings-on of this, his first Blake Family holiday dinner. When he does try to chime in several times to
share his dream of falling into an ice cream cone made of grass and becoming a
baby, he is met with as many ‘Huh?’s’ from the puzzled Blakes as from us in the
amused audience.
The sleeping volcano of the gathering is Fiona Blake, the
grandmother/mother who mostly sits in her wheelchair or lies on the couch -- sometimes mumbling, often slobbering, usually
looking downward with no expression. But
when she does erupt, the performance of Lauren Klein hits home for anyone who
has ever had a relative with a debilitating disease like Alzheimer’s or
Parkinson’s. And when she speaks through
an email four years old, one of the play’s most meaningful moments occurs that
reminds many of us of the loving legacies of others in our own families who
have past before us.
Joe Mantello masterfully directs this talented ensemble,
often making great use of David Zinn’s two-level, multiple-room set in order to
have parallel conversations mirror each other in ways to enhance the humor or
the poignancy of each or to draw subtle attention to the contrasts of emotions
between the two. The set of David Zinn
is so wonderfully realistic in its cut-away slice of the New York apartment
that when there is a screaming ruckus about a rat in a corner, we can only
think, “Of course ... What did you expect?”
The lighting of Justin Townsend is award-winning in design and effect,
creating shadows on the second-floor ceiling that tell stories all by
themselves and providing that stark and never quite sufficient lighting that a
low-rent apartment always seems to have.
Big applause goes also to the sound design of Fitz Patton whose
unexpected and periodic entrances of pounds, creaks, and strange noises all
become a soundtrack of surprise and suspense with always a comic
undertone.
The many accolades that have been awarded to Stephen Karam’s
The Humans – including recently being
named by The New York Times as one of
the best 25 plays in the past 25 years – gain full credibility after spending a
Thanksgiving with the Blakes at SHN’s Orpheum Theatre. Look for The
Humans to make its way to regional stages at all levels in the years and
generations to come.
Rating: 5 E
The Humans continues
through June 17, 2018 at the
Orpheum Theatre, 1192 Market Street, San Francisco. Tickets are available at https://www.shnsf.com.
Photo
Credit: Julieta Cervantes
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