“Nothing new or original comes out of Hollywood these days.” This comment is everywhere, and frankly, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to disagree. Amidst the endless stream of sequels, prequels, and remakes, Disney and Hulu have decided that the world desperately needed a new, direct-to-streaming version of the 1992 thriller, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. Because, of course, that’s the movie everyone was clamoring for, right?
This new version of Amanda Silver’s original script is directed by Michelle Garza Cervera (Huesera: The Bone Woman) and written by Micah Bloomberg (Sanctuary). While it follows the basic structure of the 1992 film, Bloomberg deserves some credit for introducing a significantly different, albeit far less compelling, main plot. The film’s bland reinterpretation and questionable changes set it apart from its predecessor, but mostly for the wrong reasons.
Director: Michelle Garza Cervera
Writers: Micah Bloomberg, Amanda Silver
Stars: Maika Monroe, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Raúl Castillo
The story follows Caitlin Morales (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a successful Los Angeles lawyer who has just given birth to her second child. Caitlin is a very high-strung, and arguably overprotective, mother who lives in a nice suburban neighborhood where her only inconveniences are speeding cars and her remarkably dim-witted husband, Miguel (Raul Castillo). But more on that later.
Caitlin is about to return to work to avoid another episode of postpartum depression like the one she suffered after the birth of her first daughter, something the film only half-heartedly conveys through some uninspired exposition. Her anxious nature makes finding a nanny a minor ordeal, but after a chance encounter with Polly Murphy (Maika Monroe), a former client, she miraculously finds someone who seems to have all the right qualities.
Polly appears to be everything Caitlin could want in a nanny, giving her the illusion of the peace of mind she so desperately craves. Surprisingly, despite Polly's cold demeanor, so typical of nannies, Caitlin and Miguel almost immediately place all their trust in what is, by all appearances, a complete stranger whose only reference comes from a thirty-second phone call. This completely undermines the characterization of Caitlin as the uptight suburban mother. As the story progresses, Polly discreetly breaks all the boundaries Caitlin has set in an attempt to win over the eldest daughter, Emma, and gradually turns her against her mother. The film attempts to modernize itself by exploring LGBT themes between the two protagonists. Had these themes been developed beyond a simple, superficial hint, they could have provided a fresh and interesting approach to the plot. Instead, the film only flirts with the idea before quickly abandoning it, never mentioning it again with any real significance.
Of course, Caitlin eventually realizes that something is wrong with Polly, but she receives no support from Miguel, who completely ignores the obvious and is responsible for some of the most frustrating moments in the entire film. I would be surprised if anyone could watch this movie without screaming in frustration at his utter naiveté. The story progresses through the inevitable psychological manipulation as Polly's cruelty clashes with Caitlin's suffering, but Miguel remains completely oblivious to everything during the endless back and forth.
The plot twists are inevitable and predictable, failing to generate any real suspense. When we reach the climax and Polly's motives are revealed, the reaction is more one of exasperation than satisfaction, which is unforgivable for a thriller of this type. Instead of being tense or exciting, the film is tedious from the start, only improving slightly in the final act as it rushes towards the predictable conclusion.
Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Maika Monroe are largely innocent of the film's overall failure, both delivering admirable performances with the material they are given. Winstead is believable as an exhausted and confused mother, successfully conveying the frustration of not being taken seriously. Monroe is equally convincing as a slightly unbalanced nanny, and together they are perhaps the only two redeeming aspects of the entire film.
If you don't know what to watch this weekend and "The Hand That Rocks the Cradle" pops up on your screen, perhaps it's a sign that you should go outside, save yourself some time, and avoid this movie. Or better yet, if you're curious, perhaps you should watch the original, which is infinitely superior in quality.
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