The Housemaid

by Mike McGranaghan

The Housemaid is the type of unapologetically trashy thriller we used to get on a regular basis during the 1990s. It’s got steamy sex, hideous acts of violence, and a plot with no shortage of outrageous, gasp-inducing events. The movie is based on Freida McFadden’s best-selling novel and directed by A Simple Favor’s Paul Feig, who knows how to inject the right touch of self-aware humor. Nobody is going to accuse the picture of being great art, but it’s absolutely a treat to watch.

Sydney Sweeney plays Millie, a recent parolee in need of a job and a home. She finds both after a fake resume gets her hired as a live-in housemaid by the glamorous, wealthy Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried). Nina lives in a gated mansion with her handsome and charming husband Andrew (Drop’s Brandon Sklenar) and young daughter Cece (Indiana Elle). At first, the arrangement seems okay, even though Millie is forced to live in the extravagant home’s weird attic. Then Nina inexplicably begins acting erratically, blowing up at Millie and confusing her with contradictory demands. And if you guessed Andrew finds himself attracted to Millie, you obviously understand the effect Sydney Sweeney has on the male species.

I’ve actually only described the first hour of The Housemaid. To go into detail about the second half would be unfair. Better to find out for yourself. Let’s just say that tension inside the Winchester home becomes exponentially more volatile. As is required of trashy thrillers of this nature, there is a significant development that changes the course of the story. I saw it coming. What I didn’t see is how the film would present it not as a gimmicky “gotcha” moment for the audience but as an opportunity to explore a hidden theme. Most thrillers end with the twist. This one puts it in the middle, then keeps going.

Enjoying the bloody, sexy shenanigans is easy. What truly makes the movie special is the acting. The performances are better than the material gives them any right to be. Seyfried is the standout, giving a fearlessly committed turn that fully has you doubting Nina’s sanity. Her menace is wrapped up in an outwardly pristine package, rendering it extra creepy. Sweeney’s role is transitional, as Millie goes from insecure to take-charge. She makes that switch credible. As Andrew, Sklenar nicely suggests the layers running beneath the cliché of the “perfect” husband.

The film is lucky to have these actors. During the final half-hour, some undeniably sick things occur. The Housemaid could come off as almost Saw-like in its grotesquerie were the stars not here to provide an emotional base. The crazy twists and turns are more delicious because we get so totally invested in the characters. You might find yourself hooting in an ironic combination of revulsion and delight at several spots. It’s that kind of picture.

Why is sordid material often entertaining? For various reasons, no doubt. A key part of it is certainly that we like envisioning demented scenarios, then asking ourselves what we would do in similar circumstances. The Housemaid thrives in that area. It’s got a trio of very pretty people engaged in a lot of ugly behavior, and you sit there relishing every messed-up second of it.

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