I’ve said in the past that I don’t necessarily believe in guilty pleasures. If you like something, there’s no reason to feel shame for it. But if I did believe in them, The Housemaid would be my idea of a guilty pleasure. Based on the bestselling novel by Freida McFadden which is of the trashy erotic thriller genre that gets read in airport lounges, the film appeals to the side of us that wants to see shady dudes put in their place by ladies due their rightful revenge. It’s a pretty smart, funny movie, and it couldn’t have a better director in Paul Feig or a more brilliant cast in Amanda Seyfried, Sydney Sweeney, and Brandon Sklenar.
Sweeney, filmed like jailbait about to launch an OnlyFans, plays ex-con Millie, who cons her way into a gig as housemaid for the fabulously wealthy Nina and her husband Andrew, played by Seyfried and Sklenar. While Nina is pleased as punch to have Millie around during the hiring phase, once she’s moved in things change rapidly. Nina berates and punishes Millie, and accuses her of getting too close to Andrew. She holes Millie up in a crammed, no-privacy-having room in the attic, and continues on a tirade that only gets worse when Nina’s worst fears come true.
Feig has moved pretty stealthily away from the comedy films he’s used to, and into the thriller-comedy realm with the A Simple Pleasure franchise, and now The Housemaid, which also has franchise potential. He’s the right director to balance the dark humor, of which there is plenty, and the thriller material that promises to pull the rug out from unsuspecting audiences. If you haven’t read the book, my suggestion is that you see the movie first and enjoy the twists and turns.
The second half of the film plays completely different than the first, with the perspective switching from Millie over to Nina. Both halves keep you invested, though, but for wildly different reasons. As Millie is knocked for a loop over Nina’s aggressions, we’re kept off-balance, as well. Nina’s portion of the film is meant to deliver a more visceral feeling, the kind that will likely have the women in the crowd cheering once the plot’s full nature is revealed.
The Housemaid is pure soap opera stuff, with over-the-top campy performances to go along with it. It’s also pretty silly, which is going turn off some folks. Seyfried, in a performance that’s like the polar opposite of The Testaments of Ann Lee, is chewing up scenery with reckless abandon. Sklenar has quickly cornered the market playing “perfect” gentlemen in It Ends with Us and Drop, and leans into that image while offering something completely different in the final act. Sweeney’s role calls on her to be less flashy, but even she gets in on the craziness. All three actors are stunningly photographed and exactly what a film like this calls for, which is to look very pretty. It sort of feels like some characters had their roles drastically reduced, too, like Michele Morrone as the mysterious groundskeeper Enzo, and Elizabeth Perkins as Andrew’s badgering mother.
The Housemaid knows its audience, and gives them all of the trashy goodness they’re hoping for. This ranks somewhere in the realm of campy domestic thrillers such as Fatal Attraction and The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. It’s well-made camp but camp nonethless. Sit back and just enjoy the ride.
Lionsgate releases The Housemaid in theaters on December 19th.
