Caitlin Cronenberg grew up on the film sets of her famous director father, David Cronenberg, but she spent the first two decades of her career as a portraitist, photographing celebrities like Margot Robbie, Billie Eilish and Drake for the New York Times, Vogue and Vanity Fair. Now, she’s entering the family business with her directorial debut, Humane, a dark-yet-comedic thriller set in an eco-dystopia. “Being a set photographer—literally the least important person on set—also taught me about how to run one,” she says. We spoke to the youngest Cronenberg about climate anxiety, the indelible influence of Veronica Mars and the value of perspective in show business.
Humane is about the difficult choices humanity must make after an apocalyptic environmental collapse. How often do you think about that stuff in your daily life? I think I’m like many people in that I see a news item about something horrible that’s happening in the world and I feel awful about it and want to do something to make it better—and then life gets in the way. I’ll think, Okay, well, I’m not seeing it directly through my window right now, so maybe it’s going to be okay.
How many of us can say we’re actually on the front lines of environmental activism? I think that, as a society, it’s our job to educate ourselves about what’s going on in the world and try to do the best we can to reduce our carbon footprints and be better people generally toward the environment. However, I don’t have the bandwidth to go to the beach and pick up garbage on any given day. But it scares me. It’s always there—the neuroses, the fear and the undying dark feeling in my stomach that the world’s going to hell.
You grew up on your dad’s film sets, and you’ve said you noticed that he worked with the same people for his entire career. What drew you to Michael Sparaga and his screenplay for Humane? Michael and I have been friends for a really long time. We first met when I went to his house on assignment to take a portrait, and we instantly got along. We have similar senses of humour and like talking about nerdy TV and movie stuff. Later, I did unit stills—taking still photos on set—for one of his films, Servitude. Then he emailed me out of the blue one day and said, “Hey, have you ever thought about directing a feature?” He sent me the script for Humane, and it really spoke to me. Michael’s personality and sense of humour shone through, and it was such a unique concept. It was different from anything I’d ever read.
In the film, the governments of the world ask people to volunteer to kill themselves to decrease the stress on the planet. It focuses on one family’s impossible decision about whom they should sacrifice. That premise sounds scary but also ripe for satire. How do you settle on a tone for that kind of story? The tone was there on the page—it’s a beautifully written script. It’s funny, biting and dark. You know it’s satire because of the characters and the dialogue, so it was all there for us. Then, in passing that onto people like Jay Baruchel, Emily Hampshire and Enrico Colantoni, you’re getting actors who have the ability to turn on the comedy but also play it quite straight.
I don’t think this movie takes itself too seriously. Obviously its themes are serious: there’s family drama and it’s violent. But the characters are so over the top. It’s meant to make you laugh and gasp and feel, not to preach to you.
You mentioned Enrico Colantoni, whose performance as a kind of government contractor from hell is brilliant and really anchors the film. Is it true that you and Michael cast him because of your shared love of Veronica Mars?
That’s the short version, absolutely. Veronica Mars was one of the shows we bonded over when we first met. Enrico was also in Servitude, and I ended up photographing his wedding, so we’ve known each other for a long time. Michael even wrote Humane with Enrico in mind for that character. So, when we did cast him, it felt like a very full-circle moment. But, yeah, I love Veronica Mars. Best show ever.
How much has your experience as a photographer helped you on set?
I’m an introvert. I was a very shy kid, and becoming a party and event photographer forced me out of my shell in the early days of my career. If you told me when I was 14 that I’d be standing on a set someday yelling “action” in front of 100 people, I would have said you were crazy. But, career-wise, being a photographer does set you up for running a set. Being a set photographer, literally the least important person there—the person all the actors hate—also teaches you how to run a set. You know how it feels to be the person that nobody wants around.
Visually, I also had a very clear idea of what I wanted the film to look like. I partnered with an amazing cinematographer named Douglas Koch, who understood my vision and was able to execute exactly what I had in mind.
You’ve had a long, successful career as a portraitist and photographer. Do you see yourself moving away from that and doing more directing?
Getting the opportunity to make a film is an absolute gift, and I would love to make another one. In the meantime, I have a career that I also love. Directing was never meant to be a shift away from photography, just an adjacent second career. I hope to always be able to shoot and take on projects that I’m excited about, including more films. Movies take a lot of time to get off the ground, so why not shoot in the meantime?
Growing up on film sets, what impression did show business make on you as a kid?
I was very lucky that the film sets I was on were my father’s sets, which were always calm and well-run, and everyone loved and respected one another. All of my experiences were incredibly positive. The first time I had negative associations with being on set was as a still photographer, when I learned that not every set was as lovely and energetically pleasant as my dad’s. But I think that was an important experience—you can’t expect everything to be sunshine and roses in the film industry. You hear stories to the contrary all the time.
Having that breadth of experience helped me understand the kind of set I wanted to have and the energy I wanted to lead with. Throughout my time as a still photographer, people would come up to me and say, “I worked on your dad’s film in the ’80s, and he was so great. Please tell him I said hello!” That just solidified what I already knew, which was that his way was a pleasant way to work. It doesn’t have to be stressful or angry. We’re making movies, not performing heart surgery. Perspective is key, I think.
How do you think the Cronenberg family would fare in a Humane-style situation? We would all volunteer separately, because none of us could stomach killing the others. We would all just say, “All right, we’re ready.”
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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