and danny deferrari's max, a sugar daddy who turns up with his wife and baby only hours after enjoying danielle's paid—for services. i'll get his number later. now, now, now, now, now. what follows is a string of excruciating encounters that make the toe—curling embarrassments of mike leigh's abigail's party seem like a walk in the park. accompanied by the brilliantly edgy strains of ariel marx's jittery panic—attack score, shiva baby is by turns hilarious and horrifying, a fever dream of social dysfunctionality that leaves its audience unsure whether to laugh or scream. do you kids know each other? um... sennott is mesmerising in the lead, a bundle of raw nerves making her way through a sea of obstacles wearing a smile that looks like it might snap at any moment. meanwhile, the supporting players do a pitch—perfectjob of conjuring a crowd that can be warm and supportive one moment, brutallyjudgemental the next, all with the aid of some of the sharpest urban family dialogue since the heyday of nora ephron.