Butler's Cinema Scene

Krisha Fairchild

“KRISHA” My rating: B

83 minutes | MPAA rating: R

The dysfunctional Thanksgiving gathering has long been the subject of cinematic exploration, usually played for knowing laughs.

But writer/director Trey Edward Shults’ debut effort “Krisha” plumbs harrowing depths other filmmakers flee in horror, along the way establishing a narrative style so realistic that you can almost smell the turkey roasting.

In a long, uninterrupted tracking shot, we’re introduced to Krisha (Krisha Fairchild), who parks her ratty pickup truck in an upscale suburban neighborhood and goes door to door looking for her sister’s address.

With a wild mane of nearly-white hair and the sort of long granny dress that screams “hippie Earth mother,” the sixtysomething Krisha locates the right McMansion, is admitted, and finds herself surrounded by an extended family. There’s the usual oohing and aahing about how the kids have grown (they’re mostly college age now) and nice things are said about the new baby.

Everyone seems welcoming, but it’s clear that Krisha is something of a black sheep seeking to be readmitted to the fold. While a dozen or more relations fuss over the big meal, roar at the televised football game, or roughhouse out in the back yard, Krisha stands a bit apart, soaking it all up and looking just a bit fearful.

The first 40 or so minutes of the film are purely observational, and anyone who’s attended a big family holiday celebration will feel right at home with the happy chaos, the babble of several simultaneous conversations, the small pack of dogs underfoot.

Given how absolutely real it all feels, one is not surprised to learn that Shults has cast the film mostly with members of his own family.  Krisha is played by his aunt; the hostess of the big feed is portrayed by his mother, Robyn Fairchild, and Shults has cast himself in the key role of a college-age kid whom Krisha tries desperately to coax into her arms.

In a conversation with her hilariously sardonic brother-in-law (Bill Wise), Krisha says she’s spent the last few years working on herself, trying to get her act together. Apparently she has a long history of substance abuse and this is her last chance to reconnect with family members whom she has burned repeatedly over the years.

To prove that her recovery is the real deal, Krisha  volunteers to prepare the turkey, a bird as big as one of those inflatable yoga balls. But that may be too much pressure on a woman who’s having a tough time coping.

While “Krisha” is uber-realistic — practically a cinema verite documentary, with the many members of the extended Shults family improvising as the camera rolls — it’s also dreamlike (perhaps nightmarish is a better word).

Shults and cinematographer Drew Daniels employ savvy camera technique to depict Krisha’s unravelling mental and emotional state.  In one amazing shot Krisha stands frozen in the busy kitchen as the camera spins around her…it’s a perfect visual representation of an individual lost among loved ones and not knowing which way to turn.

| Robert W. Butler