The new ‘Cruel Intentions’ rights a crucial wrong of the 1999 film
A true bittersweet symphony.
Did we need another Cruel Intentions? Like most people, I started the new Prime Video series based on Roger Kumble’s cult 1999 teen drama featuring Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ryan Phillippe, and Reese Witherspoon with some apprehension. But I emerge from its first season with at least one brownie point for the show.
The series is righting one very crucial wrong of the film. In Cruel Intentions, the character of Kathryn Merteuil is an iconic albeit one-dimensional villain whose downfall is celebrated by all. But was Kathryn a bad guy or merely a woman wronged? Asking this question, Cruel Intentions the series puts its spin on this femme fatale character with Sarah Catherine Hook’s Caroline Merteuil and paints her in shades of grey that evoke some much-needed sympathy for the devil.
So… Cruel Intentions‘ Kathryn Merteuil is not a villain, ‘kay?
Cruel Intentions is about two step-siblings—Kathryn Merteuil (Gellar) and Sebastian Valmont (Phillippe)—from Manhattan’s rich and affluent Upper East Side playing God with the lives of their high school classmates with a bet involving their new principal’s daughter, Annette Hargrove (Witherspoon). Unfortunately, Sebastian dies at the end of the film. But before that, he has fallen in love with Annette, gotten a redemption arc, and made everyone forget that until a while back, he was a f*ckboy, emotionally manipulated women into having sex with him, and blurred the lines of consent quite often. Oh, and he was kind of into incest too. But RIP.
In the film’s climax, only Kathryn gets her comeuppance for the les liaisons dangereuses, set to The Verve’s ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’, as Annette exposes her truth before the school. Back then, it felt like sweet vengeance. But now that we know better, it’s evident that Kathryn wasn’t a villain, but a victim of patriarchy. Her actions, while inexcusable, were unhealthy manifestations of her righteous female rage over being treated differently for her proclivities than her step-brother Sebastian due to gender.
Kathryn Merteuil is sharp, intelligent, accomplished, and enjoys sex in a society that expects young women like her to be demure, pious, pure damsels with zero vices and conservative style. And so she elaborately pretends to be the latter so she can be seen as ‘a lady’. But the truth is that even when she does that, the moment she shows someone a glimpse of her bold, confident, sex-positive self, like when she did with her boyfriend Court Reynolds (Charlie O’Connell), he dumps her for someone younger, naïve, and ‘virginal’, like Cecile Caldwell (Selma Blair).
In her iconic monologue to Sebastian, Kathryn says, “I’m the Marcia f*cking Brady of the Upper East Side and sometimes I want to kill myself.” Kathryn’s actions are motivated by rage over this injustice where society sets different standards for her and her stepbrother. It lets men like him flaunt their sexual prowess, even puts them on a pedestal, but derides her for it.
Kathryn’s entire bet with Sebastian is a two-pronged ploy for revenge. The “virgin until she marries” Annette is the epitome of societal standards for women, and Kathryn wants to ruin her to show everyone that their ideals are a lie. And by wanting Sebastian’s car—a vintage Jaguar XK140—as a prize, she wants to take away the symbol of his wealth (he called Kathryn’s mother a gold-digger), masculinity, and his freedom, for herself.
It’s evident from Kathryn’s behaviour and micro-expressions how much it hurts her when Sebastian—the one person who loves the dark, twisted, real her—also chooses Annette. She loses not just her partner in crime but also the only power she thinks she has over him—her body. Her parents don’t care for her, which is a whole new set of traumas to unlock. She doesn’t even have friends. But unlike Sebastian, she never gets her redemption arc through love. So when Kathryn’s righteous female rage turns destructive, Kathryn is painted as a jealous vamp, wicked, and a b*tch, like many women before her,
Cruel Intentions the series humanises Kathryn with the backstory she deserves
Prime Video’s Cruel Intentions, which sets its drama in Greek college life, might be lacking in several departments. But it deserves credit for doing right by its female protagonist. Hook’s Caroline Merteuil shares much of Kathryn Merteuil’s traits—the inappropriate sexual tension with her stepbrother Lucien (Zac Burgess), being the Queen Bee of campus sororities, and pretending to be a straight-laced girl’s girl with everyone’s best interests at heart.
However, the series delves deeper into what makes Caroline cruel and manipulative in the first place—someone who is into substance abuse and who could make such a bet with her stepbrother. Even if this version of Kathryn lacks the bite of the original, it’s a nuanced origin story of her toxic rage that humanises her instead of just portraying her as an out-and-out villain. More importantly, the series acknowledges the role bad parenting plays in making Caroline and Lucien the problematic people they are.
It’s not a surprise that Caroline is who she is, desiring control and power in all areas of her life, because power is the only love language her cold and calculative mother, Claudia Merteuil (Claire Forlani), understands and responds to. It’s all Caroline knows. Throughout the eight episodes, the shadow of Caroline’s mother hangs over her and her relationship with Lucien. In episode 5, ‘Epsilon’, we see how Claudia favours Lucien over Caroline even after she gets her a meeting with Annie Grover (Savannah Lee Smith) and her mother, the US Vice President’s wife. Claudia makes inappropriate advances at her stepson (which could explain why Lucien often sees himself as only good for sex), not caring how that would impact Caroline.
Much like the film, it is evident here that Caroline is the over-achiever and natural heir to her parents’ empire. She has the grades, a strategic mind, connections, and leadership skills to be their heir. On the other hand, Lucien gets by on his looks, charm, and father’s name but offers little else and doesn’t even care about his family’s reputation. And yet, he is always cut slack while Caroline is held to stricter standards and has to constantly prove herself because she is a woman.
Several scenes in the season, enhanced by Hook’s nuanced performance, show us the real, broken, Caroline in moments when her cruel façade cracks. She yearns for her mother’s approval and attention. In her twisted way, she cares for Lucien and wants to get close to him but cannot let him see her vulnerable because she would lose power over him. Even though she relies on CeCe (Sara Silva) and Blaise (John Harlan Kim), she is lonely, has no real friends, and cannot trust anyone because they all let her down. The absence of their father from the picture (so far) suggests that both Caroline and Lucien have major daddy issues that might further explain why they are the way they are.
For some bizarre reason, the series has decided to take the film’s crisp 97-minute runtime and expand it into more than one season. So we will have to wait to see if Caroline Merteuil meets the same end as Kathryn did in the 1999 Cruel Intentions. However, knowing what we know about Caroline and understanding what drove her to become the person she is, there might be some complex emotions here, perhaps even pity that we feel for her when her imminent downfall arrives. A true bittersweet symphony, if you will.
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