“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.










