HUMANE. A Thriller from David Cronenberg’s Daughter

Humane is an interesting story told in an uninteresting manner.

In the near future, the world is sinking deeper into a climate crisis: overpopulation has led to global shortages of food, drinking water, and natural resources. A special decree from the United Nations mandates all nations to reduce their populations by 20 percent. Citizens are encouraged to participate in a government euthanasia program, with each volunteer’s family receiving $250,000. Charles York, a former TV star, and his wife, Dawn, organize a farewell dinner for Charles’s adult children from his previous marriage: Jared (a government scientist), Rachel (a pharmaceutical executive), Ashley (a failed actress), and adopted son Noah (a former aspiring pianist). Charles and Dawn intend to undergo euthanasia together, but Dawn flees. The leader of the euthanasia team declares that he must deliver two bodies—and leaves it up to the siblings to choose the second “candidate,” triggering a brutal fight for survival.

Caitlin Cronenberg is the youngest member of the Cronenberg filmmaking dynasty, which includes her father, David, and brother, Brandon—both renowned directors. Although Caitlin is a trained fashion designer, she devoted herself to photography after her studies. She shot a portrait of Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau for the cover of Delta Sky magazine, created cover art for several issues of L’Uomo Vogue and Variety, designed the album cover for Drake’s Views, and published two photography books (Poser and Endings). Cronenberg has also directed a handful of music videos (I Got You by Hollerado and On Camera by iamhill), a short film (The Death of David Cronenberg), appeared on Drag Race, won a Canadian Arts and Fashion award, and collaborated with Apple. Isn’t it fascinating that someone with this background would choose to explore themes of economic inequality, nepotism, wealth, privilege, and elite corruption in her feature-length directorial debut?

Setting aside snark, let’s take a closer look at Humane. The premise is intriguing, as is the fundamental question at the heart of the story: would you sacrifice your life for the planet? (One might want to ask this especially of environmental “warriors” who glue themselves to roads and splash paint on artworks—only to boast about it on social media, eagerly increasing their carbon footprint.) The nightmarish vision of the future is also convincing: there are no natural disasters shown on screen, people try to function normally despite the abnormal situation, and life, though threatened, somehow goes on—just as it likely would in reality (as seen, for example, during the pandemic). The problem is that Cronenberg only skims the surface of these themes—she signals them but does not develop them. There is no room for deeper analysis or an extended social commentary, as it’s hard to consider an awkward satire of ultra-wealthy villains as anything of the sort.

The film’s underdeveloped socio-ecological themes aren’t its only issue; the (anti)heroes of Humane are equally shallow and one-dimensional. Every single one of them is an unlikable sociopath, making one implausible decision after another. Cronenberg and screenwriter Michael Sparaga reach the height of absurdity in a scene where Jared, Rachel, Ashley, and Noah each declare, one after the other, that they will volunteer for euthanasia—even though just moments earlier, they were ready to kill each other without hesitation. But their fate is of no concern to us—the choice of who dies in Dawn’s place is meaningless because there is no one to root for. The only character with any complexity is Bob, the leader of the euthanasia team, but he is a secondary figure and not the film’s focus. A story told from Bob’s perspective might have been far more engaging than a generic thriller about depraved people hunting one another in a confined space.

The film is also visually uninspired. For a project helmed by a photographer, Humane is shot in a surprisingly bland and conventional style. The visual language recalls TV dramas and mass-produced Hallmark and SyFy movies: static camerawork, generic set design, lighting that fluctuates between underexposed and overexposed, and a dull soundtrack. The final nail in the coffin is the acting. Emily Hampshire (Rachel), Jay Baruchel (Jared), Alanna Bale (Ashley), and Sebastian Chacon (Noah) all deliver performances reminiscent of a pianist playing with a single finger, hitting just one note. Peter Gallagher (Charles) is slightly better, but the show is stolen by Enrico Colantoni, who gives a surprisingly nuanced performance as Bob. Unfortunately, even he cannot save Humane—a film of missed opportunities.

One might be tempted to call this a promising debut for Caitlin Cronenberg, but there’s no point in lying.