Like all twist-laced thrillers based on successful (if trashy) novels, to some there’ll be a level of expectation walking into a feature like The Housemaid. Thankfully, even if you are initiated with the turns and curveballs that author Freida McFadden laid out in her novel of the same name, screenwriter Rebecca Sonnenshine (The Boys, The Vampire Diaries) and director Paul Feig (A Simple Favour, Bridesmaids) have altered enough of the prose to deliver something wildly unexpected.
And, of course, if you are yet to read McFadden’s novel you’ll be in for even more of a delicious, campy treat with this filmic iteration, one that weaves itself across wicked black humour, surprising emotional resonance, and an unhinged, violent state of mind. Ultimately, the eventual turn towards its darker, more complex mentality only works as well as it does because it subverts the expectation of the preceding story.
Said story revolves around desperate, young Millie (Sydney Sweeney), who, through a relaxed charm and maybe a little resume embellishment, secures a live-in housemaid position for the Stepford archetypal Winchester family – Nina (Amanda Seyfried), her impossibly charming husband, Andrew (Brandon Sklenar), and their precocious daughter, Cecelia (Indiana Elle). It all seems too good to be true on first impression for Millie, with Nina seemingly promising a warm home environment and monetary stability. Of course, as with all good domestic thrillers, something that’s too good to be true usually is, and it isn’t long before Nina starts to display erratic behaviour and expressing contradictory statements that threaten both Millie’s sanity and security.
To reveal any more of where Feig’s story travels would be doing a disservice to the audience I can only hope will embrace the flamboyant nature of the film and all its eventualities. What can be spoken of is the absolute powerhouse commitment to Nina that Seyfried adheres to. In a year where she’s delivered some of her career-best work in the unconventional musical drama The Testament of Ann Lee, and been rightfully lauded for such (she recently received a Best Actress – Musical or Comedy nomination at the Golden Globes), a character like Nina might not seem as demanding or prestigious. Sure, no one is confusing The Housemaid with high art, but her full-bodied turn is no less impressive or less worthy of respect. The manner in which she so coolly transitions between fond and ferocious is so exciting to behold, and the film is all the better for her involvement.
That’s also not to take away the work that Sweeney and, particularly, Sklenar deliver too. Sweeney’s role hinges mostly on down-to-Earth relatability and is largely reactive. Without giving too much away, it’s the back-end of the film where her character becomes more alive, and she quite easily sells Millie’s trajectory. Same too with Sklenar, who, fitting with his character, relies predominantly on his ruggedly handsome looks (the man’s smile should earn its own credit), before the narrative requires a pivot into more complex territory – something he navigates with a terrifying ease. So much of The Housemaid‘s marketing is banking on the known name appeal of Sweeney and Seyfried (and rightfully so), but, post-this film, one could expect an easy leading man ambit for him.
Much like Feig negotiated the right tone of absurdity and alarm for A Simple Favour and its sequel, The Housemaid makes no apologies for its own theatrical temperament, and it will ultimately be best consumed if you’re prepared for the melodrama of it all. Whilst it does present its plot revelations in a manner that may undo repeat viewings, for the consuming 130 minutes (a running time that surprisingly flies by) of Sweeney and Seyfried’s game of upstairs-downstairs, you’d be hard pressed to find a more entertaining oeuvre.
FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
The Housemaid is screening in Australian theatres from Boxing Day, December 26th, 2025.
