Eileen review: A thrilling lesbian romance – and a Carol for an alternative universe
"Against a thrumming score accentuating Hitchockian suspense, Eileen is an untamed portrait of unruly sapphic desires" writes Emily Maskell
In this alternative universe Carol, Eileen (a phenomenal Thomasin McKenzie) is surrounded by splashes of red. From her fancy vermillion evening dress to basking in the illuminating scarlet of car brake lights, these jolts of colour cut through the grey blandness of her prison job.
However, the most stunning rouge she comes across is painted on the lips of Dr. Rebecca St. John (Anne Hathaway). The new prison psychologist arrives with a flurry of mulberry accents, elegantly crossing the room in stilettos – Eileen is entranced. It’s quite the demure introduction but with the red abundance comes a dichotomy: sensuality and danger. It is on a thin line between these two poles that Eileen plays out.
In William Oldroyd’s darkly alluring psychological thriller, based on Ottessa Moshfegh’s novel of the same name, desire is an escape. In 1960s wintery Massachusetts, the titular 24-year-old is stuck in a job she has no passion for and a home where her alcoholic father spits obscenities. When he drunkenly waves his gun, the jail feels safer.
To cope with this limbo of uncomfortable belonging, Eileen turns to fantasy. On her tea break, she gazes out of the office window at a delinquent and overtly oggles one of the prison guards. She fantasises about making out with the men and masturbates to her fantasies during office hours. It’s a pastime that keeps her busy, but a new obsession is brewing: Rebecca.
The women first cross paths with a united interest in the case of Leonard Polk (Sam Nivola). He’s an enigma in the prison: the boy who brutally murdered his father and now refuses to speak to anyone, including his scatty mother (Marin Ireland). While debating the nuances of the case, Rebecca invites Eileen out for drinks. Suddenly, the case is the last thing on Eileen’s mind.
After shaving her entire body, including her big toe, Eileen meets Rebecca to murmur over cocktails. Rebecca’s eyes narrow to Eileen as if she were her prey, waving off the feeble flirting attempts from male patrons. They end up swaying together, bodies pressed close like magnets.
“You remind me of a girl in a Dutch painting,” Rebecca remarks about Eileen’s “strange face” after several drinks. Though Eileen is no wide-eyed ingenue, McKenzie bolsters this young woman with a reserved but inquisitive energy.
McKenzie’s performance wrings the twisted psychology of this young woman while maintaining her mousey exterior. Such investment in the unusual heroine helps sell Eileen’s rushed climax. Though some of blonde Hathaway’s deliveries fall slightly off, her sultry crooning of “my girl” will have you weak at the knees.
Oldroyd implements classic queer pining with a sensual approach. When Eileen first meets Rebecca she sniffs her coat. Then, after a brief kiss at the bar, Eileen relights Rebecca’s half-smoked cigarette so her lips can vicariously linger on Rebecca’s just a little longer.
Against a thrumming score accentuating Hitchockian suspense, Eileen is an untamed portrait of unruly sapphic desires. Though it is polarising, Oldroyd’s film noir odyssey is certainly thrilling.
Eileenis screening at the 2023 London Film Festival and is in UK cinemas from 1 December.