“The Chambermaid” Simmers, but Doesn’t Boil
The lesbian period piece drama has become something of a parody of itself. This genre, if we can call it that, has been the subject of an SNL skit, think pieces, and, of course, more lesbian period films. What purpose do these works serve? One could argue that humans are inherently fascinated with any time and place that feels far removed from our contemporary reality. It’s the same reason we turn to science-fiction. Others, like myself, have argued that part of the reason these stories exist is proof of existence. That queer women did not suddenly just come out of nowhere in the 20th century. How does director Mariana Čengel Solčanská’s The Chambermaid fit into this growing sub-genre? The film hits many of the familiar tropes, but can’t carve out its own path.
The Chambermaid is partially inspired by true stories of maids and domestic servants in the Austro-Hungarian Empire in the lead-up to and during World War I. Anka (Dana Droppová) is from a small, poor Slovak town. When her mother remarries, Anka is sent to Prague to be a chambermaid for a wealthy noble family. Suddenly, she’s in a world that doesn’t make sense to her. One thing in particular that eludes her is Resi (Radka Caldová), the daughter of the noble family. Resi is hostile to Anka at first, but the two strike up a friendship that blossoms into a romantic relationship as the world around them becomes engulfed in war.
courtesy of film movement
As with any romantic drama, it’s the couple at the center of the story that must make the journey worthwhile. In the case of Anka and Resi, it’s hard to see what draws them to one another. Most of the time Anka is on screen she’s in her role as a chambermaid where she must tamp down her personality to serve every desire of the noble family. The audience can see she’s kind and that she misses her home, but not much more is known about Anka. The same can be said for Resi. She’s outright cruel when she meets Anka, dropping crumbs on the floor Anka just cleaned, purposefully staining sheets to make Anka work through the night scrubbing them. The change from enemies(ish) to friends to lovers is far too quick to allow the viewer to make sense of it.
In films where the romantic pairing spans the socio-economic divide, we need to see the change in each of the characters that allows them to meet in the middle. There’s nothing in Resi’s actions that make it seem like she has changed or cares about Anka in a way that’s romantic. We’re told they care for each other by the script, but the actual emotional change never comes. We never see how the girl who was needlessly cruel to her chambermaid becomes someone who said maid would want to run away with. In films like Portrait of a Lady on Fire, where there’s a similar class divide, we see the rich woman as aloof, though never cruel. It allows the audience to empathize as the wealthy character shows they’re capable of learning from the world around them. Resi simply wakes up one day and changes her mind in The Chambermaid, which takes all the emotional weight out of the relationship.
The Chambermaid is a technically sound, well-acted addition to the world of the lesbian period piece, but the love story at its core is missing the passion, the stakes, and the tenderness that a movie like this one should have in spades.
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