Critics reviews

[T]he stage is set for a busy, briskly edited, beautifully played comedy of errors with a sweetly psychotic undertow. Think the Woody Allen of Annie Hall meets the Darren Aronofsky of Mother! In short, a knockout.

Sometimes this New York Jewish family hysteria may seem in danger of verging on caricature but Seligman’s tone is so original and exuberant that you’re carried along on the anxiety-ridden roller-coaster, and Sennott conveys Dani’s inner life, and her juggling of different personas, with great intelligence.

Seligman’s command of the flow and swell of comic tension is thrillingly intuitive – she knows exactly when to let it well up, and when to pop it for maximum effect.

There’s a perceptive twist at the heart of Seligman’s sharp and unremittingly funny debut... [where] the secular and the religious have collided in a way where every action becomes some carefully rehearsed ritual – the same smiles, the same jokes, the same gentle condolences.

Seligman is brilliant at framing her protagonist’s ratcheting terror, while the soundtrack features Hitchcockian stabs of violin as though we are watching a horror film rather than a humorous chamber piece.

Seligman has given us an impressively grown-up and commendably well-acted comedy full of brilliant twists and turns and populated with some hilariously erratic and neurosis-driven characters.

This is a very intense, claustrophobic black comedy whose inner anxiety is underlined by Ariel Marx’s nerve-jangling score, which seems always to be leading us to some eruption of emotional hurt.

As writer, Seligman studs her intricately constructed screenplay with hilarious absurdity and scalpel-sharp one-liners; as director, she frames the mayhem expertly, with one eye always on the bigger picture. The result is an exhilarating and compassionate film about love, death, loneliness – and the life-affirming importance of dessert.

In the hands of writer-director Emma Seligman, the mundane surroundings of a family gathering become a crucible for mounting horror and weapons-grade awkwardness, pushed along by a terrific central performance and a smattering of excellent gags.

Though the film is a comedy, it also leans into the terror of this extremely awkward state of affairs. Ariel Marx’s chilling score, filled with discordant strings, allows the audience to experience unfolding events through Danielle’s perspective.

Shiva Baby is a comedy and one of the highest and sharpest order, blasted into the stratosphere by Sennott‘s remarkably coy, unashamedly brilliant central turn as the confused, scrappy and searching Danielle, with Gordon, too, absolutely spellbinding especially when the two are together. There isn’t a false note in the ensemble...

Shiva Baby feels like a delightfully twisted escape game, with the audience rooting for Danielle to get out in one piece. Served by a sharp sound design and a screechy horror score by Ariel Marx, this quick-fire social nightmare is fun as hell but not entirely a laughing matter.