Keith Kupferer, Lance Baker, Hannah Dworkin, Sadieh Rifai, Kelly O'Sullivan

In the play, three generations of Blakes gather at the newly rented apartment of daughter Brigid in New York's Chinatown (a plain but clean two-level unit nicely realized in David Ferguson's set). Brigid's parents, Erik and Dierdre, have arrived from the family home in Scranton, Pennsylvania, with Erik's mother Fiona, who suffers from dementia and incontinence. Daughter Aimee is also a New Yorker—an attorney who narrowly missed perishing in the 9/11 attacks. The parents aren't entirely impressed with the simple but spacious (by Manhattan standards) bi-level apartment Brigid has just leased with her boyfriend Rich, but as the ninety-minute, one-scene play progresses we see the Blakes have bigger issues than housing. There's unemployment (both current and impending), relationship breakups (both actual and threatened), career concerns, health concerns, and the demands of caring for an aged parent.

Over the course of the play, which spans the arrival of the parents and grandma Fiona through the Thanksgiving dinner and the guests' departure, these issues emerge in the way such things are often revealed at family gatherings. They come out indirectly, with the family members gamely trying to reassure that the problems are really not as bad as they seem—that things will be okay. Karam's dialogue is always believable and natural—his Blakes sound like a real family—neither as acidic nor as dysfunctional as the Westons of August: Osage County, nor as perfectly loving as The Waltons. Their familial familiarity makes them unafraid to dig, tease or get angry at each other, but there clearly are bonds that keep the banter within bounds.

Individually, each of the moments is believable. For most of us in the audience, a good share of the moments will be resonant as well. The pain of each of the six people is palpable, with credit equally due to the actors, director P.J. Paparelli, and writer Karam. Most moving of all for me is Sadieh Rifai as Aimee, the attorney dealing with a serious health problem, the probable loss of her job, and most of all, the recent breakup with her girlfriend. At various points Rifai's Aimee sneaks away from the family to make cell phone calls to the ex, or just to cry. The understatement of these moments is totally convincing and heartbreaking. There's a complex performance from Hannah Dworkin as the mother Dierdre, a rather rugged working class woman who shows considerable strength, particularly in caring for her demented mother-in-law (Jean Moran, who captures both the physical and verbal characteristics of her character's condition). Kelly O'Sullivan's Brigid has the energy and enthusiasm one often finds in the young adult members of such a family—an eagerness to show they're able to take responsibility for a family dinner and thus demonstrate their adulthood. Later in the play, when Brigid is shown to have career challenges of her own, her difficulty in balancing these issues with the demands of her growing relationship with boyfriend Rich (Lance Baker) and the problems of her family boil over.

Keith Kupferer, Chicago's go-to actor for middle-aged, regular guy role, is the father Erik. He's right in his wheelhouse playing a long-time high school coach from Scranton, but he goes way beyond that when delivering some of the play's darkest moments near the end, experiencing a full existential crisis. Lance Baker plays the boyfriend Rich as an even-keeled outsider, responding with caution to the unfolding events in the family he hopes to join through his relationship to Brigid.

Paparelli stages Karam's script in an almost naturalistic style. He's not afraid to leave actors' backs to us for short times, or even render some of the dialogue hard to hear. It's that realism that makes the play and this production so moving. While it may seem improbable that one family would have so many serious problems at once, each one of the problems and characters is delivered so truthfully that the play's contrivances, if it has any, are unimportant compared to the power of the drama. And while some of the challenges the Blakes face—caring for an aging parent, navigating challenges, and others to not be revealed here—are timeless, the issues of economic insecurity are very much of this current time.

The play's message—that in times of trouble, no one will be more helpful or essential than family—is hardly a new one. Delivered with such honesty as it is here, though, it feels fresh and resonant.

The Humans will play the American Theatre Company, 1909 W. Byron, Chicago, through January 4, 2014. For ticket information, visit www.atcweb.org or call (773) 409-4125

Photo: Michael Brosilow

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-- John Olson