Tackling the heavy topic of racial inequality in domestic servitude through the generic tropes of horror, director Jenna Cato Bass delivers a cutting film that challenges as often as it frightens.

★★★★✰

The intersection of social commentary and horror is one of the most interesting cinematic developments to reawaken within the latest generation of films. In 2017, Get Out demonstrated how white people have evolved the ways they stereotype and marginalise Black people. This message is echoed in new and unnerving ways in South African indie horror Good Madam from director Jenna Cato Bass—an exciting filmmaker who continues to successfully use the language of film to comment on the many inequalities still prevalent in today’s society.

Tsidi (Chumisa Cosa) is a single mother living with her daughter, Winnie (Kamvalethu Jonas Raziya), in a poor part of Cape Town, South Africa. Following her grandmother’s death, Tsidi takes Winnie to live with her estranged mother, Mavis (Nosipho Mtebe) who works as a live-in housekeeper for a bed-bound wealthy white woman named Diane. Tsidi’s half-brother, Gcinumzi, has been adopted by Diane. Renamed Stuart, his university education in Australia puts him at odds with his working-class origins and family as he is drawn in by white society. Tsidi and Winnie are immediately treated with hostility upon their arrival at Diane’s large manor. They endure hallucinations, stumble across seemingly out of place Egyptian hieroglyphics, and are subject to poltergeist activity: all of which starts to take its toll on the young family.

Thematically, Good Madam is intelligent and sharp, balancing horror tropes with commentary on the state of domestic servitude. Tsidi makes it clear how her mother’s bizarre devotion to Diane echoes the apartheid era, though the situation becomes both clearer and grimmer when Mavis berates her daughter, highlighting that if Diane dies, she will have nowhere to live and no income. Thus, Mavis plays the role of the “jolly Black woman” to appease her white madam, knowing full well that her life is in her dying hands. While Mavis lives a relatively terror-free life under the house’s spell, Tsidi experiences more recognisable horror: ghostly dogs, grotesque hallucinations of severed limbs, and visions of a man in the bedroom. The personification of such realistic social drama through the language of hyperbolic horror visualises these power dynamics effectively, creating a film that is heart-breaking and horrifying in equal measure.

Bass’ message becomes wholly apparent by the film’s ending: too often, Black servants are treated as “one of the family” when, in reality, they are a means to an end for their white madams. All this, of course, serves to highlight the very real effects of colonialism and the lingering generational trauma endured by the descendants of Black slaves, now forced to perpetuate this cycle by working as servants to wealthy white women. This is expressed through the historic ghostly incidents that are uncovered by Tsidi as the film progresses. Yet it is explored more overtly through Mavis: a woman played with such realism that the terrible position she is put in becomes more upsetting than any jump scare or ghostly apparition.

Bass commands an excellent cast of characters, led ably by Chumisa Cosa (Tsidi) and Nosipho Mtebe (Mavis). Both maintain a solidly realised balancing act throughout the film. On the one hand, they must deliver biting social drama and emote the very real feelings that come from being marginalised through arguments, tears, and even violence. Yet, both must also display an other-worldly fear of the unknown, demonstrating sheer terror at the hauntings that trouble them. Too far one way and the supernatural elements would lose their impact. Too far the other and the vital commentary might be undercut by spooky silliness. Fortunately, both leads excel, no doubt in part to Bass’ excellent command of a scene.

If there is another character that emanates through the screen, it is Diane’s house itself. Far from the classic image of a haunted house, the film’s setting is notable for its modernism and mundanity. Set with a simple lighting rig and a rudimentary camera with only a few dutch angles, the halls of this manor should be far from terrifying. Yet, Bass’ cinematic voice shines through the darkness, lingering just long enough on every shot to craft palpable unease. Additionally, it is entirely appropriate that the house feels boring. By setting the thrills in such a mundane environment, Bass cleverly reaffirms the daily horror that people like Tsidi and Mavis still face because of social, racial, and class-based inequalities.

This is only compounded by the truly unnerving sound design, which manages to make the most mundane sounds—a scrubbing brush, a dog’s pant, a teaspoon removing some sugar—utterly disorientating. Tsidi becomes our avatar for discomfort, as her hands inexplicably become the source of these unorthodox sounds, demonstrating her envelopment by the house and its enforced servitude. By applying these effects seemingly against incorrect footage, Bass manages to turn this 20^th Century marvel into a house of horrors.

Like many works that may be considered “arthouse films”, Good Madam indulges in the vagaries of slow cinema. Though the threat of a jump scare or harm to our beloved lead characters mostly keeps the audience invested, some scenes have a tendency to drag. Additionally, dialogue can, occasionally, be a little on the nose. Part of the enjoyment of a mystery film comes from the journey, from finding out the answer and working out the social commentary ourselves. Bass demonstrates a clear lack of trust in her audience and perhaps in her own writing by spelling out the plot and its message far too often, sadly undercutting some of the film’s best moments.

These gripes aside, Good Madam is an intelligent horror film with something important to say. Though it perhaps takes its time in delivering the scares a little too much, this may also reflect the slow, enduring machine of racism and marginalisation, which are sadly seemingly in no hurry to vanish from society.

The Verdict

A strong cast, clever setting, spine-chilling sound design, and a powerful communication of lingering racial inequalities make Good Madam a frightening and impactful watch. It’s a film that begs to be seen multiple times, as its ultimate twist frames earlier scenes in an entirely new light. Most of all, it’s a reaffirmation that the very real inequalities experienced in our world are scarier than any ghost or ghoul could ever be. Good Madam is what horror should be: smart and sinister. 

Words by Nathanial Eker-Male

Good Madam is now streaming on Shudder

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