New nanny Polly (Maika Monroe) is initially a godsend for the Morales family, but mum Caitlin (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) starts to suspect more sinister motives.
Following in the footsteps of recent straight-to-streaming re-dos of Fatal Attraction and Presumed Innocent, here’s a loose remake of another staple of the 1990s VHS rental market, The Hand That Rocks The Cradle. Rebecca De Mornay’s performance as breast-pumping psychopath Peyton Flanders in the original is unforgettable, and ascendant scream queen Maika Monroe wisely has a different take here on the nanny from hell – her Polly is as vulnerable as she is cold-blooded. Swapping out the gleeful trashiness and dodgy politics of the 1992 version for a sleeker, more clinically chilling tone and aesthetic, this is a valiant effort to update this domestic thriller – but it’s ultimately as forgettable as any number of other remakes.
Initially coming to lawyer Caitlin Morales (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) for pro-bono advice on dealing with an exploitative landlord, Polly appears to be genuinely in need, and Caitlin and her husband welcome her into their blandly beautiful glass box of a home to care for their two daughters. Bribing ten-year-old Emma (Mileiah Vega) with contraband sugar gets her on side against Caitlin, but Polly’s actual game is less about taking over Caitlin’s perfect life than it is inflicting brutal revenge.
There are a few forays into more interesting material. Instead of Polly trying to seduce the husband, as in the original, Caitlin, who we learn has a history of dating women, enviously spies on Polly dominating her female partner in bed. Does she dream of escaping from her picture-perfect family life? Then there’s the gaping class divide between them, with Caitlin fussing over minimising micro plastics while Polly describes growing up in abusive foster homes. But there isn’t enough space for any of this to be explored fully before the film’s bloody but rote climax, as if it’s too afraid to really challenge its audience to sympathise with its murderous anti-heroine.
A genuine disappointment from an intriguing, potentially even subversive premise. It’s another commanding performance to add to Monroe’s oeuvre, but this Cradle is more frustrating and forgettable than it is thrilling.