REVIEW: ‘Housekeeping For Beginners’ Throws Out The Rules

Family is all that you make of it. In Goran Stolevski’s Housekeeping for Beginners (Domakinstvo za Pocetnici), tragic circumstances forge a new family. Dita (Anamaria Marinca) has to adopt Vanesa (Mia Mustafi) and Mia (Dzada Selim). She has to pretend to be married to Toni (Vladimir Tintor). Toni is dating Ali (Samson Selim). And now, they’re all living under one crowded roof. That’s not even to mention Vanesa’s three friends who are constantly over. They aptly, even if sarcastically, describe the home as a haven for queers. Even if somewhat begrudgingly, it certainly is.

Stolevsky is a master at creating tension in confined spaces. The packed house of Housekeeping for Beginners is no exception. You have to expect all these personalities under one roof to engender drama. They certainly do. And the way that drama is rendered is spot on. Vanesa’s teenaged tirades feel teenaged. Mia’s running commentary screams “child who’s been around too many adults for too long.” And the absolute exhaustion of every adult is palpable.

But even more so, Housekeeping for Beginners’ power is how each character rises to the occasion to make this family work. None of these are people you expect much from to start with. And there’s no reason to expect they’ll grow necessarily, either. Because this is a pretty dismal movie. It starts with some pretty big gut punches. It’s filled with the tension between racism, homophobia, fascism, and privilege. Even the character at the center of much of the tragedy is pretty terse. There’s a lot of love in this home, but there’s a lot of necessity and resentment, too.

Despite the resentment and dashed dreams, everyone pulls together. However, the way they do isn’t especially dramatic. There’s no hero who fixes them all. There isn’t a specific moment when everything clicks into place. These people have already had to do so much to survive. Their instinct for lifting each other up largely comes from their instinct for self-preservation. Separately, they’d not only be miserable they’d be in danger. Together, they can not only survive—they can be a family.

The tight quarters draw lots of emotion out of every argument, every dance, and every tender moment. While the sensation of living in a small home with a large family will be apparent to anybody who has lived it, the set and the cinematography make it clear what it’s like living in those conditions. There’s little quiet. Personal space is sometimes very hard to come by. You’re always bumping elbows and banging on bathroom doors. But you’re also always surrounded by people to help set the table and play with. Or to yell at when you need to take your anger out.

The plot follows the ups and downs of building a family. Its emotional highs are high, and its lows are low. By the end, everything feels like it’s following the emotional beats of life, even if you can’t always predict the precise details. However, Housekeeping for Beginners‘ final message is easily its best. It calls into question the group’s longing for a nuclear family.

Were they after it for the sake of the law, or was something more engrained in them pushing for it? Ultimately, they land in a place that feels true to the characters’ needs and the queerness of their clan. It satisfies the need to thrive together in a racist, homophobic, fascist world. But it also fulfills their need to be true to themselves while figuring out how to love and support each other.

Housekeeping for Beginners is a good reminder that there are no rules when it comes to forging a family. The more the members of this one remember that, the happier and safer they all get to be together.

Housekeeping for Beginners is in theaters now.