by Michael Cox
The Humans – Written by Stephen Karam. Directed by Joe Mantello. Presented by the Boch Center. At Shubert Theatre, 265 Tremont St., Boston, through March 25.
Boston audiences have the fortunate opportunity to see the 2016 Tony Award-Winning play The Humans, written by Stephen Karam and directed by Joe Mantello at the Shubert Theatre through March 25.
Brigid Blake and her boyfriend Richard are proud of their new duplex apartment, the lack of sunlight, the irrational layout, the noisy upstairs neighbor, the street-level view of an alleyway covered in cigarette butts, and the convenient location in Lower Manhattan—Chinatown actually. And it’s always fun to have a basement apartment in a flood zone.
Brigid’s parents Erik and Deirdre are seeing it for the first time, without furniture, without plants, without books on shelves, dishes in the cupboard, pictures on the wall, or those homey little touches, like toilet paper in the bathroom. Still, food is in the oven, because they’re spending Thanksgiving here this year. A card table and folding chairs have been set up among the unpacked boxes.
“Do you get cell reception in here?,” Eric asks his daughter.
“Is it a Verizon phone?”
“Sprint.”
“Then you have to lean up against the window.”
The elder Blakes just can’t understand it. They have a lovely home in the suburbs of Scranton. Why would their daughter want to move to the city that her grandparents worked so hard to get out of—especially to this particular part of it? Erik still remembers when the Twin Towers fell. He observed the whole thing in person, planning to be in one of the buildings, just waiting for the observation deck to open.
Brigid’s sister Aimee was with her father that day. She and Erik’s mother Momo are the single people at the dinner, Momo presently living with her son and daughter-in-law, (but never really present as she gradually drifts off into the distant world of dementia), and Aimee is uncomfortably alone now that her girlfriend has left her.
Throughout dinner two forces play off each other: Brigid and Richard’s fearlessness and Erik and Deirdre’s dread, the new couple running headlong into an uncertain future, (but never really afraid of it because of Richard’s soon-to-be-gained trust), as opposed to their elders, desperately attempting to hold on to their hard won sense of security. Meanwhile, Aimee and Momo play off both couples and counter any notions of ultimate surety.
The production with its current cast started its tour in Seattle last October, with Richard Thomas playing Erik, Pamela Reed as Dierdre, Therese Plaehn as Aimee, Daisy Eagan as Brigid, and Luis Vega as Richard. While Lauren Klein as Momo reprises the role she played on Broadway.
Ever since his Emmy Award-winning performance on the TV series The Waltons, Richard Thomas has been known for his earnest performances, and it is he who ties together the ensemble and storyline. Pamela Reed is familiar to most people for her comic performances, (Arnold Schwarzenegger’s hypoglycemic police partner in Kindergarten Cop and Leslie Knope’s mother in Parks and Recreation). Both actors master all the nuances of their characters, keeping the audience captive.
Boston audiences will remember Therese Plaehn from her stellar performance as Emily in David Cromer’s Our Town staged by The Huntington Theatre. In one of the most emotionally powerful scenes of the play, Plaehn’s Aimee calls her ex-girlfriend, and it becomes clear that she is still harboring deep feelings. As she tells her sister later, “Maybe loving someone long term is more about deciding whether to go through life unhappy alone or unhappy with someone else.”
The play begins and ends with Erik alone in this all too prescient apartment, this location that plays such a crucial role in these character’s lives at this particular moment in time. Perhaps this place is even a character in its own right. Not only is it the subject of a good deal of conversation, it never sits silently—speaking back to the characters, creaking, buzzing, clanking, knocking and pounding, sometimes droning an ominous warning, and sometimes yelling back with an angry thud.
The set, with its dual-level design bound together by a spiral staircase, exposes some things and hides others. The audience can see into the walls, and see the beams, bricks, and insulation – things normally viewable to only the roaches and rodents. But the lighting also masks a lot. Bare bulbs, spare and utilitarian, cast menacing shadows on the ceiling and the dingy-gray walls, hiding some areas in threatening darkness.
After first premiering in Chicago, The Humans was developed Off-Broadway at the Roundabout Theatre, a leading non-profit committed to taking risks, cultivating new work, and “educating minds for the future.” It was here that this marvelous setting, in its current state, was developed. The scenic design by David Zinn, lighting by Justin Townsend, and sound by Fitz Patton were all set in place, drawing accolades, and garnering award nominations. After transferring to Broadway, the show continued to draw attention and continued to win awards.
Mantello, a director whose work is informed by his experience as an actor, masterfully focuses the show’s dense layers. “I see things that actors fall into,” he says. “Now there’s a part of me that’s removed from the process and can stand back.”
It becomes clear right away how important direction is in this show. Because of the oblique narrative, the complex stratum of ideas, the lack of a clear protagonist, and the obscurity of the play’s themes, this show could easily tip off the rails, becoming confused and tumbling into pointlessness. It’s a testament to all involved that this show never falls into the esoteric, the sardonic, or the maudlin. While some shows can stand on their dialogue alone—director and actor proof, they’re often called—this one requires good collaborators. Mantello’s astute direction crafts the action into a story, rather than just an event, or a series of conversations.
In ways this show harkens back to the Greek tragedies, taking place in one location, and in one real-time, 95-minute stretch. It also evokes a favorite message of the Greeks; “No man can be called fortunate until he’s dead.” No amount of luck, or religion, or years of dedication to your job can prevent the inevitable from creeping in. Though we no longer believe in gods and oracles, we are still aware of fate. Our fate is within us, tangled into our genes, genes we share with our family, who both empathize with us and help us to survive them. For tickets and information, go to: http://www.bochcenter.org/
