Another New York City nanny? No, no. This one wakes up screaming every morning, unable to stop the dream of a body bag around a not yet dead body. This one is having an affair with the father of the children she is nannying. This one sees cockroaches crawling on her body, and dead fathers watching her from across the street, and transparent bodies in photographs. Because this is New York, this “weirdness” mixes in with all the other weirdnesses in the city and what, after all, are a few hallucinations when you spend your days behind a camera. That’s right, this nanny is also a photographer, who shoots first and thinks later.
So Christian wakes up screaming, every morning, not because of what she sees, but because she cannot do anything about what she sees. The terror, the suspense, come from the inability to act.
The guilt and the hallucinations come from the inability to stop acting.