THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE (2025)

Studio:   Hulu
Director: Michelle Garza Cervera
Writer:   Micah Bloomberg
Producer: Michael Schaefer, Mike Larocca, Ted Field
Stars:    Maika Monroe, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Raul Castillo, Martin Starr, Mileiah Vega, Riki Lindhome, Shannon Cochran

Review Score:


Summary:

A mother’s mind gradually unravels as she comes to suspect her new nanny, who hides a tragic past, is manipulating her family.


Synopsis:     

Review:

While the issue of whether or not a particular movie should even be remade at all can be a separate debate, sometimes it’s at least easy to see why someone felt a film was due for an update. The black-and-white “King Kong” from 1933 remains an undeniable classic, but it was over 70 years old when Peter Jackson thought it was time for a second refresh with cutting-edge digital effects. Fans of foreign films can bemoan Americanized versions of thrillers like “Let the Right One In” and “Martyrs” (review here) all they want, yet the reality is many viewers still have aversions to subtitles, so there’s some sense behind remaking those movies in English to reach wider audiences.

Why anyone thought “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” needed modernization is more challenging to figure out. Even three decades later, director Curtis Hanson’s 1992 original doesn’t seem all that dated. It’s certainly not inaccessible, as it’s regularly available for free on TV, and Amazon can put a physical disc in a U.S. mailbox tomorrow for under $8. Maybe someone assumed Rebecca De Mornay isn’t the draw now that she was then, so they decided to contemporize the actress by having Maika Monroe fill her role.

Whatever the reason, here’s Hulu’s 2025 take on the tale. Broad swaths of the story stay the same, though drilled-down details see some shifts. Monroe plays Polly, a mentally unstable woman pretending to be a nanny in order to manipulate the family of Caitlin, a workaholic mother played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead. Polly hides a different secret than De Mornay did for plotting an elaborate revenge scheme that involves psychological head games and turning a child against her mom. In keeping with current times, the hands rocking this cradle are also a lot less white than they were before, with Caitlin’s Mexican husband Miguel making for a bilingual family and Polly’s sexuality introducing an element of same-sex attraction.

Taking Polly’s supposed profession to heart, “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” does a lot of unnecessary nannying of its own, holding the viewer’s hand through every single second as though they’ve never seen a motion picture before. Try not to take it too personally that the movie thinks you’re stupid. It assumes everyone watching must be a dimwit too dense to understand how the most basic storytelling concepts work.

You’ve heard of Chekhov’s gun. Brace yourself for Chekhov’s stop sign. Only five minutes into the movie, Caitlin has a confrontation with a Karen whose speeding car nearly clips a stroller that rolled into the street. Caitlin immediately tells her husband, “There should be a stop sign there,” then repeats her declaration a second time. A few more minutes pass when Caitlin stops her car on a different day to examine a stop sign that’s been bent into the bushes and nearly gets herself clipped by a passing minivan. Sometime after that, she mentions a community meeting about installing a stop sign, followed by another moment where she and a friend watch a construction crew bolt it into the ground. The only question now is which character is going to be killed by someone ignoring this stop sign the film spends five scenes establishing?

“The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” does this again with Caitlin’s antidepressant medication. A closeup on the venlafaxine label after Caitlin sets down her pill bottle is conspicuous enough. Then there’s a second cutaway to the bottle later, except this time the camera includes Polly’s face reflected in a makeup mirror to show her eyeing the pills suspiciously. For those who still aren’t certain if Polly plans to mess with the meds, fear not. There’s also a shot of Polly filing down replacement pills for a third hit over the head about what’s obviously happening with Caitlin’s prescription.

The ridiculous ways in which “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” manages its plot progression are beyond infuriating. The passage of time gets depicted with brightly lit, literally, visual cues. See the twinkling tree behind the dinner table? It’s Christmastime. Fireworks overhead and New Year’s Eve tiaras? The calendar just flipped to next year.

Thanks to digging into the nanny’s trash and doing some DNA testing, Caitlin’s close friend and fellow lawyer Stewart becomes the first person to find out who Polly really is and why she chose to target Caitlin. Instead of instantly contacting Caitlin with a dire warning, he just leaves her a voicemail that cryptically says, “I think we should talk.” From that dumb action, it’s crystal clear he’s going to encounter trouble before having a chance to present the evidence he collected. Caitlin will of course never hear his message until it’s too late, even though the movie shows her using her phone in the meantime. Never mind that she’s the one who sent Stewart on his fact-finding mission, meaning she should be anxiously awaiting his discoveries.

Characterizations are textbook stereotypes. Although she’s playing a typical gaslighting victim whose mind gradually unravels, Mary Elizabeth Winstead fares best with a comparatively juicy role giving her more than one note to hit. Maika Monroe, on the other hand, embodies the villain in the most vanilla way possible by merely getting a dead stare in her eyes every time she’s up to something sinister. It’s comical how the movie presents her as impoverished by having her pull up to the house in a noisy, dirt-caked old car that’s also dented on all sides and has a sideview mirror attached with duct tape.

Even more cartoonish in depiction, Caitlin’s husband Miguel represents the epitome of the disbelieving husband trope. Every incident where Caitlin senses something peculiar about Polly is another opportunity for him to tell his wife she’s being irrational or imagining things. One of his most maddening moments, and there are a dozen to choose from, comes when the couple’s young daughter, Emma, lights fireworks inside the house, nearly setting the girl’s bedroom ablaze and putting her in a direct line with extreme danger. Polly apologizes for giving Emma the fireworks, something objectively idiotic, causing an incensed Caitlin to demand Polly leave immediately. Miguel contends it was only an accident, Polly just wanted Emma to have unsupervised “fun” with something flammable, and Caitlin needs to get a grip on acting rash.

Soon after that, Caitlin tracks down the person Polly put down when she weaseled her way into a nanny job, and Caitlin learns her reference lied about Polly’s work experience because she felt a recovering drug addict needed a sympathetic break. Apparently unconcerned about having someone who is ostensibly a stranger being alone with his two children, Miguel is more troubled that Caitlin confronted this other woman and would dare to impugn Polly.

“The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” is so unbelievably infantilizing with its audience, it’s insulting. Winstead’s moderately intriguing portrayal of a spiraling breakdown gets diminished in service of a predictable story rewritten for simpletons. Maybe “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” shouldn’t have been remade in the first place. But maybe another try in a few years’ time might be warranted just to completely wipe this version from relevancy.

Review Score: 45