Eileen, 2023.
Directed by William Oldroyd.
Starring Thomasin McKenzie, Anne Hathaway, Shea Whigham, Marin Ireland, Owen Teague, Sam Nivola, Jefferson White, Siobhan Fallon Hogan, and Tonye Patano.
SYNOPSIS:
A woman’s friendship with a new co-worker at the prison facility where she works takes a sinister turn.
There are several ongoing plot threads in William Oldroyd’s Eileen (his long-awaited follow-up to the under-seen gem Lady Macbeth, which served as an incredible launching pad for Florence Pugh’s career), a slow-burn thriller that takes its time dissecting the titular character and how the arrival of a confident, headstrong co-worker (Anne Hathaway) becomes infectious the more they spend time together in 1960s Massachusetts. A psychosexual dynamic is also at play, considering Eileen (Thomasin McKenzie) doesn’t lead much of an exciting life and is lonely, often fantasizing about sex with people she presumably doesn’t know very well.
The opening scene sees Eileen spying on a couple making love in their car, turned on by this voyeurism so much that she reaches out of the vehicle window to grab a snowball to shove, you know where. The character isn’t only sexually stunted or perverted, though, but odd all around, seemingly unfazed by working inside a prison for young men, choosing to wrap herself up in the mystery of why young Lee Polk (Sam Nivola) snuck into his parent’s bedroom at night and repeatedly slashed his father’s throat and stabbed the body for good measure, monitoring visits from mom (Marin Ireland) that end with nothing productive and tears. Eileen sneaks around to casually observe crime scene photographs of the disturbing incident as if it’s normal behavior.
Then there is the relationship with her former police officer, womanizing, near-death alcoholic father (Shea Whigham), which is fraught and only turns sourer during a tense dialogue exchange where he asserts that there are two kinds of people, with her falling into the group “filling the space” that will never understand what it means to be in love (Power of the Dog cinematographer Ari Wegner holds the shot on Eileen’s silent reaction and piercing facial expression as if to note that she should not be underestimated.) He also doesn’t approve of her hanging out with Rebecca, the new prison psychologist co-worker played by a classically luminous Anne Hathaway, taking pleasure in empowering Eileen for reasons that could either be sincere or nefarious. This also showcases that she comes home to a different kind of prison when she leaves work.
For two-thirds of its running time, there is a lingering uncertainty of where this is all going. Simultaneously, it doesn’t matter since Thomasin McKenzie excels at playing this socially maladjusted, emotionally stunted, horny, and increasingly obsessive weirdo so well regarding the transition from quiet mouse to someone potentially dangerous and unhinged (there are multiple quick hallucinations of her imagining firing a gun) that it doesn’t matter if the New Zealander attempting a Bostonian accent frequently sounds silly. When her father warns that love will make someone crazy, Eileen might already be there. If she’s not, pushing her over the edge won’t take much.
The million-dollar question is why Rebecca has taken such an interest in Eileen and if she is getting the desired response from their bonding. The chemistry between the two sizzles, unsure if it’s going to shift into something erotic or sinister. Eventually, the murder comes back into the story with some abhorrent revelations (whatever you are thinking, it’s probably not that) that don’t just turn the film into a thriller but a tightly staged suspenseful sequence where, regardless of what happens, who these characters are and who they are becoming will have crystallized.
The film probably could have gotten to this point quicker, although the extended mystery of where this is going is not without memorable scenes and monologues, including some striking ones from the supporting cast (Shea Whigham grounds his monstrous character into someone defeated, regretful, and soft-spoken, whereas Marin Ireland hypnotizes with a shocking detail surrounding the truth of the murder.) There is also that sensation that this is all fleshed out in much deeper detail in Ottessa Moshfegh’s novel, who wrote the adapted screenplay alongside Luke Goebel.
When it’s over, there is also a deflating feeling of wishing there was more, but ultimately, an understanding that Eileen accomplished saying what it wants to about the eponymous character and what happens when people are given a push or an obsession or a reason to break free into the person they have been concealing within.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
