Bernard and Doris

Doris Duke Susan Sarandon, widely described as the wealthiest woman in the world, hires Bernard Lafferty Ralph Fiennes to be her trusted majordomo. Bernard explains a six‑month employment gap as “health issues,” a euphemism for rehab to battle alcohol. Doris, sharp and suspicious by nature, quickly senses the truth, yet she agrees to give him a chance. As Bernard moves into the sprawling estate, his penchant for control becomes evident: he plants portraits of his former bosses, Elizabeth Taylor and Peggy Lee, in his bedroom and proclaims himself “Miss Duke’s eyes and ears,” demanding obedience from the staff. Despite Bernard’s growing attachment, Doris treats him with a brash bluntness that borders on dismissive, even forgetting to pronounce his name correctly at times. Yet the bond between them deepens in unexpected ways as Bernard’s competence and devotion begin to win her over.

Doris teaches Bernard about horticulture, especially orchids, and he gradually takes charge of running her many households during her frequent absences. The work gives him a sense of purpose, and he derives satisfaction from keeping the sprawling operation orderly and efficient. Bernard’s devotion is tested when a younger lover of Doris’s is briefly seen playing the piano; Doris flirts with him in the greenhouse, joking that belly dancing is a form of seduction, and Bernard reveals a cautious admission: he “swings in the other direction.” Doris nudges him toward bolder appearances—tone down his severe dress, wear brighter colors—and she begins to trust him enough to include him on her world tours. He even accepts the ritual of wearing her jewelry and makeup as part of his own evolving role in her life. Throughout, Bernard saves copies of the newspaper clippings about Doris, compiling them as if cataloging a living legacy.

Their closeness intensifies, and Doris eventually tests him with a direct seduction. When Bernard hesitates, she presses him with questions about his desires and boundaries. He responds with quiet sincerity: “I want to take care of you, Miss Duke.” This moment crystallizes a shift from servant to surrogate family, with Bernard increasingly shaping the rhythm of Doris’s life. As his confidence grows, so does a troubling alcoholism relapse. He begins drinking again, initially in small, discreet ways, but the pattern eventually jeopardizes his ability to perform. Rather than dismiss him outright, Doris uses her wealth to keep him close—having him readjusted through rehab while continuing to rely on his intimate care.

A stroke incapacitates Doris, and Bernard returns to take even tighter control as he assumes an outward, almost performative resemblance to her earlier self—donning her makeup, jewelry, and couture, and presenting himself with a manner reminiscent of Doris’s own public persona. In a poignant moment, Doris asks him to consider what happens after she dies, and Bernard tearfully agrees to carry out her wishes. Yet the tension lingers: she accuses him, in effect, of betrayal even as she leans on him for protection and companionship.

Meanwhile, Doris’s attorney and financial advisor, James Rebhorn as Waldo Taft, grows suspicious of Bernard and tries to assert influence over Doris’s affairs. Taft’s efforts to intervene lead to tense moments with the staff and the estate’s inner circle. Doris, clinging to trust in Bernard, rejects a live-in nurse as a safeguard and instead chooses Bernard’s continued, though increasingly scrutinized, guardianship with occasional medical checkups from a doctor.

After Doris’s death, Bernard is named executor of her vast estate and, in a final public moment, appears at a board meeting transformed—his style echoing Doris’s earlier flamboyance and his own claimed authority. The film notes that rumors circulated about whether Bernard could have murdered Doris, but no evidence supports such claims. The story closes with the implication that Bernard’s own life ends a few years later, in the shadow of alcoholism, leaving a complex legacy shaped by loyalty, ambition, and the blurred line between caregiver and heir.

I don’t get it. You don’t fuck me, you don’t steal from me. So what do you want from me?

I want to take care of you, Miss Duke.

In this intricate portrait, the relationship between a powerful heiress and her devoted, precariously grounded aide unfolds with delicate nuance, detailing how dependence and control coexist within a fusion of affection and dependence, until the echoes of their intertwined lives linger long after the final curtain.

Last Updated: October 09, 2025 at 16:32