The poster for Nanny creates the impression of a very specific, very familiar type of film through an extreme close-up of the face of Aisha, its leading lady. She looks distressed, her features still recognizable but slightly distorted by streaks that look like liquid paint or dripping water. It’s easy to imagine this image, accompanied by dissonant music that releases tension and anxiety from the silence, complementing a story of this woman falling to the ground because of the things she’s seen. That’s what the poster advertises Nanny is published by Blumhouse, a studio best known for high-concept horror. The slogan is: “We are haunted by what we leave behind.”
All of these clues Nanny is a horror film, are not false advertising: writer and director Nikyatu Jusu deliberately uses the trappings of modern horror to shape the story. But it’s obviously less about serving up jumps and kicks to the audience than about creating a sonorous drama. Jusu paints a rich portrait of Aisha’s life as an undocumented Senegalese immigrant and nanny under the thumb of a wealthy white family, but the elements of horror intended to illustrate her inner struggles are never entirely consistent.
The film immediately conveys a sense of the stiff dynamic between nanny Aisha (Anna Diop) and her employer Amy (Michelle Monaghan). The camera captures both of them from a distance in one continuous shot as Amy hands Aisha a large binder containing guidelines, contact info, meal plans and more. Amy isn’t exactly unfriendly, but the camera position creates a sense of detachment and cools down any warmth she’s trying to present. It’s nothing bad – a slightly flashy first impression, a touch of pretentiousness. But Amy then crosses that professional boundary by asking for a hug. Aisha is taken aback for a moment, but she accommodates her boss. Amy doesn’t present the request like a demand, but she doesn’t have to; Aisha was hired to look after Amy’s baby daughter, Rose (Rose Decker), but she finds it hard to refuse the woman who handles her payroll – especially on her first day at work.
Aisha dutifully keeps a record of her hours and places the receipts in Amy’s folder, although her payment is in cash and otherwise off the books. She’s cheaper than a recognized nanny, and she’s barely aware of the situation; As an undocumented former teacher, this is simply the best path she can find for her skill set. Aisha needs the money – she hopes to bring her young son Lamine over from Senegal. His absence weighs heavily on her, and is made worse by her job: while she bonds with, cares for, and generally pays attention to Rose, her own son is an ocean away. Aisha’s relationship with Lamine is entirely over her phone, either in garbled video chats or recordings of the moments she missed.
Aisha’s guilt about leaving her son manifests itself in strange visions. Inside it’s pouring rain. A distant figure stands some distance away in a lake. Spider legs cast a long shadow that unfolds like an open maw. Aisha is able to identify some of the images, Rose tells stories about Anansi the Spider and how his small size requires him to use his cunning to survive. When talking to an older woman (Dead Pool‘s Leslie Uggams), who is more knowledgeable about the supernatural, she learns that Anansi and the mermaid-like water spirit Mami Wata try to tell her something. Aisha is fluent in several languages and teaching Rose is part of her job. But whatever these mythical figures are trying to tell her is a mystery.
Hallucinations and wasted time coupled with guilt and/or trauma are standard territory for people who freak out in art house movies. A year now without one or the other cinematic offspring The Babadook would feel incomplete. but Nanny is notable for its imagery, executed with uncommon dexterity, growing from folkloric roots, a far cry from the standard horrors of other movies of shadowy beings banging on the wall. While Aisha’s visions are meant to unsettle her and unsettle viewers through association, they are muted and beautiful in the way they bathe her in ethereal light. There’s a feeling that the visions might not be so disturbing after all if only she could figure out what they mean.
Where another film might have focused solely on Aisha’s pain and mental dissolution, Jusu makes sure to show her protagonist trying to live her life and regain some control. She tells a friend about Lamine’s absent father and begins a romance with the building’s handsome doorman (Sinqua Walls), who has a child of his own. She speaks for herself when her employers don’t pay her and unpaid overtime is piling up. Amy’s husband Adam (Morgan Spector) says he will “advance” Aisha’s payment, and she softly but firmly corrects him: It’s not an advance when it’s what she already owes.
Jusu excels at emphasizing the uncomfortable power dynamic at work, making Aisha’s relationship with her employers strained and complex rather than descending into overtly sinister territory. There’s no malice in the way they treat Aisha, but their uneasiness about the liberties they take and the limits they push is always palpable. Amy eventually lends Aisha a dress and insists it fits her skin, even though Aisha notes that it’s a bit tight. Adam’s photographs adorn the apartment in large, enlarged prints, and he is eager to discuss the themes of his art and fame with Aisha: poverty and black strife. These interactions are superficially reminiscent of Jordan Peele’s awkward “Meet the Family” moments Go out
In fact, this dynamic is so well executed that it’s odd that Jusu even bothered to try horrified considering how much less effective it is than the drama. Aisha’s chilling visions are the film’s weakest part, leading to an abrupt end while raising a recurring question: will an audience just sit still and watch the social dangers of a Senegalese immigrant when he’s promised a few stretches of anxious apartment trekking? in between?
Horror becomes a narrative crutch when used in this way, as if it were the only way to do away with the typical happy ending expectations of a more conventional film. The Oscar-bait version of Nanny is as easy to imagine as the creepy one suggested by the poster, perhaps retaining Diop’s nuanced lead but smothering him in whiny speeches and a theme of rewarded virtue where hard work pays off and the mean characters either see the mistake of their way or get what comes to them. Horror may really be the only narrative mode that reliably prepares audiences for this pessimistic version of the story, but Jusu’s otherwise impressive work suffers when it shares its focus and cloaks its clearest ideas under genre distractions.
Nanny debuts in theaters on November 23 and will stream on Prime Video on December 16.