Maid (Netflix, 2021) and the problem of humanising abusers

I'd describe Maid as Twilight for adults with added intergenerational trauma but Twilight is also for adults (and what is being a vampire if not a metaphor for continuing the cycle of abuse)

Maid is a series that follows a single mother, Alex (Margaret Qualley), leaving her emotionally abusive boyfriend and then navigating American’s broken social welfare system to find housing, food and some semblance of stability for her and her daughter. It’s set in Seattle and it definitely has if Twilight were real vibes throughout (the centrality of the woods, Qualley’s performance definitely has shades of Kristen Stewart’s Bella, erratic mother, and the abusive boyfriend is just like abusive boyfriend Edward). There are many things that recommend the show - the writing is fantastic, the characters well-rounded and the performances are great – but what really spurred me to write about the series was Alex’s relationship with her mother (Andie MacDowell) and the sensitive exploration of intergenerational trauma in the show.

Watching Alex navigate a social care system that struggles to understand the long story, complexity and individuality, hit close to home. I went on hiatus for a few months because of my mother. Without going into too much detail it involved navigating Haringey’s laughably (in a cry until you laugh until you cry kind of way) impossible mental health service. It’s a long story, one that is decades in the making, but it is also a story that can be encapsulated into a series of soundbites (psychosis, avoidance, trauma, narcissism), words that we use as placeholders for the long, meandering stories we tell to explain how we came to be.

Of course, Maid explores a white working class family embedded in generations of abuse and trauma. The construct of “white trash” is explored explicitly, such as when Alex’s ex-boyfriend insists that he isn’t glass from trash but the smooth glass ‘made beautiful by the sea’. At times I wished the show explored Alex’s privilege as a white woman isn’t really shown (perhaps it will be at some point), as many of the powerful people in the show are people of colour and this feels a little pointed (in a class not race!!!!!!!! kind of way).

However, I related heavily with the portrayal of intergenerational trauma and the long term bodily, emotional and psychological impact on Alex. It is so rare to find this kind of story in popular media. Usually abused women are silent (i.e. dead) or only shown as helpless victims. This compassionate portrayal of survival, resilience and the power of learning to accept aid is majestic. Alex struggles to accept help, frequently dissociates and finds it impossible to allow herself to be happy, all classic signs of abuse. Also, the difficulty of breaking cycles: Sometimes you don’t even know you’re repeating the cycle because the way you’re repeating it is slyly hidden from you by you. You turn and realise the person you love is in your head because, fuck, you married someone as entirely emotionally unavailable as your parents. Great. You’re only attracted to dysfunction. They are “broken in the same way”, which is the ex-boyfriend’s argument to Alex as to why they are meant to be. Alex is not attracted to the reliable, “nice guy” Nate (Raymond Ablack), except when he becomes useful as a saviour. She knows she should but somehow she won’t allow herself to or her ex or her mother sabotage her chances for happiness.

Something I’ve been contending with is that all the characters are morally grey. The boyfriend who is emotionally abusive doesn’t simply disappear in a puff of movie magic behind a flashing sign EVIL. Instead his own histories with drug and alcohol abuse and a mother who was addicted to oxy when he was growing up. Yes, he is violent. But the show humanises him. We can read this as Alex’s perspective: Her “mistake” in allowing herself to believe that he can change. Just because someone humanises themselves through their story of trauma does not magic away the abuse or the toxic dynamic of the relationship. Sometimes you just need a short, sharp word that pigeon holes a person and cut them loose rather than constantly try to see things from their perspective. Your own survival is paramount, and in Alex’s case, her daughter’s survival also.

Alex’s relationship with her mother was even more eye wateringly hard to watch, especially the psych ward episode which mirrors my own recent past. Alex’s mother is charismatic, has an ability to suck people in, but is emotionally abusive and manipulative. This dynamic of “boring” (read: anxious, fearful, overly responsible) daughter and “fun-loving” (read: manipulative, erratic, destructive) mother who frames care are control, is one I know all too well. It is so realistic it was almost painful. And then there is the crushing, humiliating shame of dysfunction when interacting with social services with your family members. Alex frequently imagines the judgement of social workers and people. The desire to be socially mobile – to go to university – is so often the desire to never have to experience that kind of shame. Those pitying eyes.

Alex does indeed apply to go to college. Some families rejoice at the thought of their child being the first person to go to college. But a lot of families are absolutely fucking livid that you would dare try. No one supports Alex. No one cares for her dreams which she cultivates with a ferocious love, the same wellspring she draws from to lover her daughter. Just like Alex, I’m a writer who uses my imagination as a shield between me and the hardships of reality, but also because writing has real world value. My refrain over the last few weeks as been that the only reason brown women like me get degrees is for when we have to stand between our parents and the absurdity of the law and bureaucratic process. For instance, I’ve written three complaints in the last few weeks in that cold, lucid, hard prose we are forced to learn to signal to these fucking institutions take you seriously, a language you absorb to survive.

It’s a rough watch at times. But Maid also made me feel a lot less alone.