THE STORY – In the Year of our Lord 1858, an unusual governess named Winifred Notty arrives at the gothic manor known as Ensor House. Winifred’s responsibilities include teaching the children table manners and educating them about their family history – all whilst hiding her own psychopathic tendencies. As staff members start disappearing, the owners of the estate begin to wonder if there may be something amiss with their new governess…Victorian Psycho invites us into the mind of a psychopath – trapped in a world she cannot control, living on the border between insurrection and madness.
THE CAST – Maika Monroe, Thomasin McKenzie, Jason Isaacs, Amy De Bhrún, Ruth Wilson, Jacobi Jupe & Evie Templeton
THE TEAM – Zachary Wigon (Director) & Virginia Feito (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 90 Minutes
A blood-soaked tale of unsubtle rage, “Victorian Psycho” arrives as a devilishly fun wrecking ball in the “Good for Her!” cinematic universe. This sub-genre resonates for enthusiastic reasons, centered on visualizing female characters as they reclaim agency in a world they cannot control. The aptly titled “Victorian Psycho,” based on Virginia Feito’s novel of the same name, both satirizes and grounds its thematic material, with a sharp eye for peculiar tone and gothic atmosphere. It’s “The Innocents” meets “American Psycho” in varying degrees. Ultimately, it strikes a uniquely playful chord by channeling female rage through a macabre paradox. Feito’s story plays out as a slippery slope of questioning her protagonist’s source of madness, skirting between rebellion and psychopathy. Directed by Zachary Wigon and starring a brilliant Maika Monroe, “Victorian Psycho” shines in a sea of gothic horrors for the way it depicts real fears about societal acceptance.
The iconically named governess Winifred Notty (Monroe) axes her vexes with a smile, ever so faintly reminiscent of Jack Nicholson grinning through pain in “The Shining.” The year is 1858, and Winifred arrives on the lavish grounds of a manor called Ensor House. “I am the sanest person I’ve ever met,” Winifred assures herself, immediately raising the question of why she needs the reminder. On the verge of surrendering to her thinly veiled unruly tendencies, she pulls herself together just enough to get one foot in the Ensor door. Once inside, she gradually meets the children she’s been hired to govern, Drusilla (Evie Templeton) and Andrew (Jacobi Jupe). Later, she crosses paths with the children’s parents, Mr. Pounds (Jason Isaacs) and Mrs. Pounds (Ruth Wilson), and the family maid, Miss Lamb (Thomasin McKenzie). Winifred strives to become worthy of this family, but at what cost?
When the first chapter begins with Winifred declaring herself the sanest person, and ends with her gleefully consuming a severed ear, you know you’re in for an unhinged ride. The film plays out in measured chapters to convey an accelerating build of insanity. What sort of mischief will reach Winifred next? And what constitutes as psychotic in this Victorian setting? The film draws on different contexts for the word in its characterization of Winifred. She is our titular psycho, yes, and her actions fall clearly outside the lines of socially acceptable behavior. But the bloodshed is more of a footnote; the story resonates most through the inner dialogue Winifred has with her own madness. She tends lovingly to the darkness within, even personifying it with a name (Fred). As a result, her actions feel rooted in a personal cause and desire to feel accepted. Winifred is our insightful entry into an eccentric world; she views wealth with a discerning eye that calls out the Pounds’ ridiculousness. Some of the family’s dialogue, such as Mrs. Pounds (an excellent Ruth Wilson) shouting, “No good maid should have creative aspirations,” reads so absurdly that it calls into question who is more psychotic here.
Winifred is also our rebellious way out of this wealthy world. The film cleverly explores her character as a Gothic antihero, yearning to let loose forbidden urges and unleash the demon within. With her contemptuous perspective leading the way, we are privy to her deepest and darkest thoughts. For Maika Monroe, who often plays repressed characters with quiet intensity, “Victorian Psycho” is an incredibly fun departure that speaks to her range. She’s in such strong control of her character, masking the violent urges and maintaining the eccentric tone throughout. Monroe’s English accent also feels deliberately spotty, which encourages mystery around whether Winifred has put on a facade to blend into the Pound family. It’s a performance full of neat surprises.
The film has a stellar supporting cast that adds dimension to characters that could have been tiresome archetypes. Isaacs and Wilson excel at balancing light energy and deep intensity. Both deliver work that evokes humor one moment and terror the next. Evie Templeton, whose character, Drusilla, forms a quiet kinship with Winifred, makes the most of a slightly underwritten role. Jacobi Jupe, who broke everyone’s hearts in Chloé Zhao’s “Hamnet,” continues to be a bona fide little star, stealing every scene with excellent line delivery. Thomasin McKenzie, playing Miss Lamb, whose disappearance causes a stir, brings an endearing playfulness to the role, and can just as easily flip a switch into tension.
Zachary Wigon, whose previous film “Sanctuary” also intently explores gendered power dynamics, brings Virginia Feito’s story to life with passion and precision. The film is period-specific in some of its visual artistry, from the historical locations and production design to the costumes. There is also something abstract and hallucinatory about the way he frames Winifred’s character, specifically in moments of violence. He and cinematographer Nico Aguilar find bizarre shots for the camera, notably a point-of-view shot from the ear Winifred consumes. The film strikes an intriguing balance of grounded and off-kilter, with some scenes carrying a dreamlike energy. It offers familiar visuals of a gothic story, complete with moody corridors and the warm glow of candlelight. Additionally, Ariel Marx (who composed “Sanctuary”) brings a lyrical and enchanting sound that heightens the slippery slope of emotions and fits the vibe of a Victorian-set story.
Subversive as “Victorian Psycho” may be in some ways, the film does fall into a few horror-genre trappings, namely, a final act on the verge of falling apart. This is where the carefully plotted storytelling loses steam and veers toward repetition. The last two chapters in particular, which feature some of the film’s most memorable visuals, slightly overstay their welcome story-wise. Ultimately, the strength of Winifred’s inner dialogue keeps the film focused. Led by a sensational Maika Monroe and an impressive tonal balance, “Victorian Psycho” delivers a spooky, entertaining exploration of female rage.
