The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

by Mike McGranaghan

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle was a surprise hit when it opened in January 1992. The movie hasn’t left much of a legacy, though, aside from launching the career of director Curtis Hanson, who would go on to make L.A. Confidential and 8 Mile. Maybe that’s why 20th Century Studios decided to launch a remake. Younger viewers probably haven’t seen the original, and older viewers who have probably don’t remember much about it. No one will remember much about this version down the road, either.

Caitlin Morales (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) has just had her second baby. She went into severe post-partum depression after the first. To help prevent that again, she and husband Miguel (Raúl Castillo) hire Polly Murphy (Maika Monroe) to be their nanny. Everything seems great at first. Then Caitlin senses Polly is doing passive-aggressive things to annoy her, like giving the baby formula rather than the breast milk she has pumped. Polly is indeed out to get her employer, taking increasingly drastic actions to hurt Caitlin’s marriage and make her think she’s crazy. Only at the end do we fully learn what the nanny’s motivation is.

The screenplay by Micah Bloomberg (Sanctuary) maintains the overall premise of Amanda Silver’s story but changes the ways Polly (or Peyton) torments Caitlin (or Claire), as well as the reason for the unstable behavior. He also excises Solomon, the intellectually disabled handyman played by Ernie Hudson, and adds an LGBT angle that suggests a sexual attraction between the women. That’s actually a fresh idea that could have been effective if it was here for more than mere titillation.

I had the same problem with this iteration of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle as I did with the ’92 picture, albeit to a greater degree. Plenty of thrillers have executed this “[blank] from hell” format in a far more exciting manner. Fatal Attraction and Sleeping with the Enemy did it before January 1992. Single White Female, Unlawful Entry, Orphan and The Guest did so after. Everything about the fundamental construction of this tale feels familiar and predictable. Added to that is the continual inference that a child might be harmed by the nanny – an artificial means of creating suspense. Sexual assault and post-partum depression are similarly used as lazy plot devices.

The lead actresses are able to carry the movie a little way. Winstead is appealing as the frazzled mom who can’t get anybody else to believe her suspicions. She brings a great deal of emotion to the role. Monroe is even better as Polly. Working in horror fare like It Follows and Longlegs has allowed her to refine the art of bringing a real quality to unreal events. Her psycho emits a credible vibe.

Both woman turn in admirable performances here. They’re still stuck with mediocre material that opts for shock over substance. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle may be watchable trash, but it’s still trash.

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