Sumptuous gothic romance about a forbidden relationship between a beautiful young Vietnamese housemaid and her French colonial employer…
The Housemaid is Asian-American director Derek Nyguyen’s first feature film. A gothic ghost-story, Linh (Kate Nhung) – a beautiful young Vietnamese woman newly employed as a housemaid at Sa Cat, a rubber plantation, falls in love with her French boss, Sebastein Laurent (Jean-Michael Richaud), a Captain in the French army. Unfortunately, it seems that his dead wife disapproves of the relationship as her wraith-like figure, dressed in black with a red veil obscuring her features, seemingly begins to haunt the mansion and its grounds leading to mysterious deaths. Set in 1953, during the dark days of French colonialism, The Housemaid serves up a gothic romance with a side helping of colonial critique as embodied by Linh, whose vulnerable position in the household means that she has no choice but to submit to Laurent, but perhaps who is not quite what she seems?
Beautifully shot with a dominant canvas of blues and greens broken by flashes of red – a key feature of East and South East Asian horror cinema – there is little doubt that The Housemaid is visually stunning. The romance between Linh and Laurent is not totally convincing but this may well be intended as the relationship between them is one of oppression. Linh’s submission to her employer raises the issue of consent, power and privilege that are central to the coloniser/colonised relationship as well as the operation of patriarchy which shores on colonialism. Kate Nhung acquits herself well with a character that becomes more than one-dimensional as the narrative progresses, while Jean-Michael Richaud is perhaps less so in the role of a dictatorial head of household, who is still grieving for this dead wife. However, The Housemaid is, after all, a film that relies much more on atmosphere than characterisation. The stock scares are effective as is the generalised dread communicated and captured through the slow-moving camera lens.
The use of the housemaid or maid to signify horror is a key trope of Asian cinema. She (and it is always a she) represents gender and class difference, and often as here, race. In horror cinema, the female body is often a metaphor for the nation, with the blood of the violated female body in Asian gothic cinema a visualisation of the wounds of historical trauma. Linh’s acquiescence of her employer’s desires reminds us of how women were used and abused during colonialism while Laurent’s advances are as much to do with the operation of power as desire. As viewers, we are asked to side with Linh rather than Laurent as it is her perspective through which the film is focalised. The imagery – especially that of the female ghost – in The Housemaid reminds me most of Thai horror cinema, especially those films which take the legendary ghost of Mae Nak as their subject. The legend of Mae Nak tells of a woman who dies during childbirth while her husband is away on military duty and who subsequently returns from the dead to reunite with her husband. Of course, such a union is not a good thing, especially for the husband, as in Asian cultures the living and dead are prohibited from cohabiting and their presence in the world of the living is seen as dangerous and often deadly. Similar stories about ghosts of wires returning to be with husbands, who have often consciously neglected them, can be found in East Asian Gothic Cinema more generally, e.g. The ‘black hair’ segment of Mizoguchi’s 1953 anthology Tales of Ugetsu/Ugetsu Monogatari. Slow camera-work, still framing and gradual build up to moments of terror is also a dominant feature of East Asian Gothic as is the implicit or explicit critique of systems of oppression including both patriarchy and colonialism. It should come as no surprise that C J Entertainment, the largest South Korean entertainment conglomerate, co-produced the film given that its remit of developing 20 projects for local markets annually by 2020. This is move that all of us who are interested in Asian cinema welcome especially for me given that The Housemaid is the first Vietnamese film that I have seen unless you count the Vietnam/South Korea co-production of Muio: The Legend of a Portrait (dir. Kim Tae-Kyeong: 2007), which it is no surprise was also co-produced by C J Entertainment.
Overall, The Handmaiden is an effective thriller which has received a warm reception since its release in 2016 and should herald the way for more Vietnamese films being released globally which can only be a good thing. Like the governess in Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw, the figure of the servant reminds us of how the intersection of gender and class provides a powerful reminder of those ghosts of the past who we should not and must not forget. Of interest is the fact does that a US remake of The Housemaid is underway with award-winning director Geoffrey Fletcher is reported to helm a US remake which will be set in the Deep South during the immediate aftermath of the American Civil War (The Reconstruction Period: 1861-1865).