a haunting of family gatherings past, present, and future. the labyrinth walls of brigid and richard’s apartment creak, groan, and tremor with age, an embodied cell death unfurling the secrets of generations. it’s easy to get lost, and characters often do. there’s proximity to the stage that is also lost - a little in translation, here - but the humans is unflinching in its existential musing, and is constructed with the confident vision of all those involved. as an exercise…
oddly saccharine, as though branagh didn’t have enough confidence in the audience or in the story being told. genuinely moving in moments but a tonal misfire throughout, unafraid to suggest but stumbles when it makes its narrative and thematic efforts explicit. jude hill is a delight and caitriona balfe and jamie dornan make for a beautiful screen couple, the former particularly shining through as the beating heart of the feature. there’s undoubtably much to love and appreciate in this personal work, but it never quite packs the emotional punch it strives for.