Review: THE HUMANS at Sound Theatre Company

The Humans might be the perfect show to see in that strange, autumnal window between Halloween and Thanksgiving happening now, walking the line between a haunted house story and a family drama. It’s about the horrors of ordinary life, family gatherings, and how we show up for each other. Sound Theatre Company’s production of Stephen Karam’s Tony Award-winning play, now performing at the Seattle Center, translates this into a well-staged adaptation from the immersive audio, effective set design, and authentic lead performances.

This year, Brigid (Rebecca Cort) is hosting Thanksgiving. She’s recently moved in with her boyfriend Richard (Vincent Milay). The visitors are her father Erik (Drew Hobson), her mother Dierdre (Patricia Haines-Ainsworth), her older sister Aimee (Erin Stewart), and her grandmother Momo (Mary Machala) – all of whom are compliant and love her, but find multiple nits to pick. The location seems seedy, Richard is a little older (they like him okay), and they generally don’t agree with their youngest daughter’s life choices. Her sister seems occupied with her own problems, and Momo has dementia, but her parents, try as they might to be supportive, can’t help themselves. The Humans is, at its core, a play about doom, about an uncertain future for one family trying to make the best of their younger daughter and her boyfriend’s not-so-great apartment and a not-so-great year. The brilliance of Karam’s writing lies in what’s left unsaid, and in how much meaning gets buried under the conversation at the family meal.

Director Teresa Thuman leans into that naturalism and unease. It takes a little time to settle in, with everyone’s chatter a little too loud, laughter a little too put-on, but it quickly becomes clear that that discomfort is by design. It’s a streamlined version of this exceptional show, so those familiar with the production will recognize much of the trappings and characterization. The atmosphere hums with tension even when nothing overtly happens, punctuated by the booming thud from upstairs. Is it something more insidious, omnipotent, or just the elderly upstairs neighbor? Burton Yuen’s scenic design gives us a split-level set that feels lived-in and unsettling: water-stained walls, dim light from the lack of windows, and a spiral staircase that seems to lead nowhere. It borders on uncanny. It’s the perfect physical manifestation of a family that feels close but never quite connected. 

This is a play that thrives on texture. The sound of footsteps upstairs, the flicker of a lightbulb, the one nice chair, the way someone cuts off mid-sentence — all of it contributes to the sense of dread. What sets this show apart from traditional family dramas and the suffering that comes with it is that it blends genres. The Humans is in part a horror play. It sways from slightly unnerving to all-out scary as the ghosts of their lives continue to seep through the wall’s water stains. 

The ensemble is strong across the board. As the father, Hobson’s Erik Blake is jumpy, melancholy, and caring. His performance feels weather-worn from years of quietly sacrificing. Haines-Ainsworth’s Deirdre, the mother, gives an earnest, and eager performance, masterfully losing her patience as the play unfurls (she's just as tired as her husband). She’s trying her best to connect with her kids, sending cringy emails, making well-meaning comments that land sideways, and trying not to notice when her daughters laugh at her. There’s such vulnerability in the way she tries, and fails, to bridge that distance. Cort’s Brigid is outspoken and overly confident, perfectly capturing that mix of hope and defensiveness that sometimes comes with your early twenties. Stewart’s Aimee carries her heartbreak more quietly. Her sardonic sense of humor and perhaps cynical but albeit more clear-eyed perspective on her circumstances is a good counterweight to Brigid’s somewhat delusional self-assuredness. Milay’s Richard walks the line between cheerful host and outsider, eager to please and continuously tap dancing to keep things light and pleasant. And Machala’s Momo, whose dementia leaves her speaking incoherently when she speaks at all, delivers the most quietly devastating performances in the show. Her languid and sometimes jerky body language and babbling feels especially spooky. 

Thuman’s direction allows space for all these performances to breathe. The family dynamic feels completely real (with the one exception of Richard and Brigid’s romantic chemistry, which felt a little forced) — the overlapping conversations, the teasing that’s both loving and cutting, the eagerness to connect but the incapability to do so. Even singing a nostalgic song together won’t help grandmother’s lucidity. The real power of The Humans lies in its contradictions. It’s affectionate and cruel, ordinary and surreal, heartbreaking and funny all at once. There’s real warmth in this story, even as it sits in the shadow of fear. When a character says something unkind, you feel for them. When someone tries to connect and fails, it hurts a little. 

By the end, the unease has settled in, but so has the love. The play asks what it means to keep going when things fall apart, and what is the best salve for their uncertain future? Religion? Dream analysis? Community service? Farmer’s market chard? Each family member prostelatizes for the cure all they stand by, but wrapped in their own individual desparation to dull the pain blinds them to recognizing that they're all in the same boat. 

Sound Theatre Company continues to emphasize its accessibility practices, and the production I saw had two ASL interpreters interacting with one another. This allowed for a translation of overlapping conversations, a critical component of the richness of this show, which was a special touch. 

The Humans is a haunting, affectionate, and beautifully acted production that captures how it feels to be alive: feeling scared, hopeful, and trying our best. This Thanksgiving, consider taking a break from your own family’s trials and tribulations by experiencing someone else’s. 

Grade: A-

Seattle Awards - Live Stats

Best Musical - Top 3

1. THE COLOR PURPLE (Village Theatre)

7.6% of votes

2. REEFER MADNESS (The Spartan Theatre)

6.8% of votes

3. JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT (Spokane Valley Summer Theatre)

6% of votes

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