Admittedly, after finishing Squid Game in one weekend, I was pessimistic to believe that anything could come close.
Any description of Maid threatens to sound unremittingly bleak. Maid isn’t a linear story. It isn’t one that promises a happy and joyful ending. This show is about the in-between moments, the grey characters, and everything that makes you feel uncomfortable that’s supposed to make you feel uncomfortable. It asks the question ‘What is abuse?’ and brings to the forefront the way systems tackle similar narratives on a daily basis.
The story starts with 25-year-old Alex (Margaret Qualley) who flees her emotionally abusive relationship in the middle of the night with her 2-year-old, Maddy (Rylea Neveah Whittet). What follows in this 10-part drama is an incredibly realistic depiction of what happens next as Alex starts to piece her life back together from scratch with little to no help from the people who matter.
This show truly highlights every effort that is made to access the bare minimum, and the lack of support available for women and their children who redefine what it means to have run out of plausible options. For Alex and many women facing the same difficulties, it almost isn’t enough to have endured what she has to qualify for support. After many intrusive questions, document checks and requirements, Alex is told that a pay stub is needed for her and her daughter to qualify for housing. Her journey eventually leads her to a maid-for-hire service and back to her separated estranged father and self-diagnosed bipolar mother (played by Qualley’s actual mother which makes their layered relationship even more brilliant to witness).
This narrative, based on a true story, puts a face to those on government assistance. 7 attempts later and Alex is shown not to be abusing the system, but rather being failed miserably by it. It showcases the hundreds of thousands of people who are trapped in a never-ending cycle and who are judged by their need for help as opposed to being applauded for their will to make it work. Initially with only $18 to her name, the series often displays Alex’s bank account funds on the screen when her agonising purchases of petrol, food, and daycare expenses need to be made. Maid ultimately walks the fine line between the harsh reality of American poverty and those who are blindly throwing away their fortune.
Each character is perfectly realised, and the show effectively captures their flaws and humanness. Alex’s unwillingness to let her daughter endure the same experiences that she did, breaking a generational curse, is heart-wrenching. She becomes the hero of her own story, making her own way with the little help she is provided with. Alex feels as real as the situation she’s trapped in, and audiences can’t help but feel that every small act of kindness Alex finds or every reach for stability is genuine, and every setback is a stab to the chest.
The stigma associated with domestic violence is still looming today, and continues to threaten people in the face of adversity. Shows like this are important because they showcase that abusers are often loved and admired publically, while victims are blamed for breaking up a seemingly loving family. It further shows that abusers themselves are unaware of the severity of their behaviour, or how terrifying verbal and mental abuse is for those enduring it- the constant promise of change, the apologies. Ultimately, it starts and end with Alex, and her realistic nightmare of navigating the social services system, family court, subsidized daycare, and housing. While parts of it are truly difficult to get through, Maid remains a must-watch for anyone without weekend plans.