Be grateful that stars Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Maika Monroe take their work seriously.
The 2025 iteration of The Hand That Rocks the Cradle (now streaming on Hulu) shows little interest in the histrionics that made the 1992 original a hot-button watercooler-talk movie and a camp classic from the era of the Preposterous Thriller (see also: cornball eyeball-bulgers Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct). The direct-to-streaming remake takes the core idea – maleficent nanny worms into nice normal family’s life to wreak torment – and updates it for the modern day, but proves that gaslighting is still as old as time itself. Michelle Garza Cervera directs Mary Elizabeth Winstead and Maika Monroe in the lead roles, and the result is about as shallow as it is entertaining.
The Gist: Caitlyn (Winstead) has an almost-perfect life: A supportive husband, Miguel (Raul Castillo). A spirited, if “willful” grade-school-age daughter, Emma (Mileiah Vega). A new baby, Josie. A big, fancy Los Angeles house that’s all glass, marble and 90-degree angles. And a job as a high-powered lawyer, because movies about low-powered lawyers are just wack. If only there was a stop sign to slow the traffic a bit on the street right outside their giant motorized metal gate – well, that would obviously make her existence perfect. Perhaps needless to say, Caitlyn’s life plays out in a highly controlled environment. Just as the gate keeps out potential interlopers, her refusal to feed herself or her family palm oil or sugar in any form cordons off all kinds of fun- er, unhealthinesses. The only thing that gets in is what Caitlyn allows in.
BUT. The movie makes a rather pointed point to show how Caitlyn takes – gasp! – prescription medication, and it’s almost certainly not for chronic sniffles. Hmm. Despite living in a bubble that sure seems designed to minimize interaction with the world at large, Caitlyn does nice things for people in need, possibly to assuage the guilt she feels for her higher-than-upper-middle-class life with the big beautiful backyard pool and guest house and refrigerator that would fit an entire family of suckling pigs if anyone around here ate saturated fat and that one wall in the kitchen that’s floor-to-ceiling cabinetry (and we’re not talking Ikea here). Did I mention she sleeps beneath a comforter, sorry, duvet, that probably cost $1100? Well, she sleeps beneath a duvet that probably cost $1100. Where was I? Right: She offers pro-bono work for people getting dicked over by landlords – that should keep her busy from now until eternity! – and that’s how she meets Polly (Monroe), a late 20-something who has nothing except a battered Prius and a flinty look in her eye that says I stabbed someone once and saw live intestines wriggle out and it didn’t really bother me.
So of course Caitlyn hires Polly to babysit the kids so she can go to “the stop sign meeting” without a kid on her hip. The arrangement goes so smashingly, and Polly’s rent situation hasn’t gotten any better – that’s apparently what pro bono work will get ya – so Caitlyn gives her a live-in nanny gig, which includes the key to the guest house. Caitlyn and Polly confide in each other a bit: they’re both attracted to women, so there’s maybe a little extra something there when Polly lays hands on Caitlyn to help her work out a cramp in her neck.
