Movie Review: The Housemaid
The Housemaid
Director: Paul Feig | Screenplay: Rebecca Sonnenshine | Based on the novel by Freida McFadden
The Housemaid is a film that fits perfectly into the trend of modern, female-driven psychological thrillers, drawing heavily from the pulpy aesthetic of the 1990s while filtering it through a contemporary social lens. It is occasionally absurd, sometimes deliberately over-the-top, at moments almost uncomfortably cringe-worthy and yet undeniably satisfying. Paul Feig, best known for comedies, once again proves he is surprisingly adept at genre-blending, balancing thriller, dark comedy, and gothic melodrama.
A Thriller That Knows What It Is and Has Fun With It
At a conceptual level, The Housemaid feels like a story destined for the screen. The adaptation of Freida McFadden’s bestseller retains the spirit of the novel: fast-paced, shamelessly sensational, and full of sharp narrative turns that practically invite nervous laughter. The film never pretends to be realistic it embraces its excess, often flirting with self-parody.
Rebecca Sonnenshine’s screenplay frames the story as a dark farce about class, privilege, hypocrisy, and power. Humor is consistently undercut by unease, and satire gradually gives way to full-blown thriller territory. This is a film that consciously plays with audience expectations until amusement turns into discomfort.
Millie and Nina: A Duel That Drives the Film
The emotional core of The Housemaid is the toxic relationship between two women, played superbly by Sydney Sweeney and Amanda Seyfried. Millie Calloway (Sweeney) is a familiar archetype: down on her luck, homeless, living out of her car, on parole, and carrying a disturbing past. When she lands a live-in housemaid job with the wealthy Winchester family, it seems like a miracle. Naturally, as the genre dictates, when something looks too good to be true, it usually is.
Nina Winchester (Seyfried) is the smiling, affluent housewife whose apparent warmth quickly morphs into manipulation, control, and emotional abuse. The two women function as distorted mirrors of one another blonde, outwardly similar, but psychologically fractured in different ways. Their relationship evolves into a ruthless power struggle.
Sweeney delivers a strong performance as Millie, charting her transformation from submissive and fearful to increasingly self-aware, sexual, and angry. The shift can feel abrupt at times, but it remains one of the film’s strengths. Still, Amanda Seyfried dominates the movie. Her Nina is volatile, manipulative, and theatrical teetering between horror and dark comedy. It’s an unrestrained, magnetic performance that commands attention in every scene.
The House as a Gothic Trap
The Winchesters’ immaculate McMansion quickly becomes a character in its own right. Sterile yet oppressive, the house evokes classic gothic fiction: full of hidden spaces, winding staircases, locked doors, and secrets. Millie’s attic room tiny, isolating, and locked from the outside functions as a blunt metaphor for her social and personal entrapment.
Feig leans heavily into horror tropes: characters appearing suddenly behind others, thunderstorms during erotically charged scenes, ominous stares from peripheral figures. Michele Morrone’s silent groundskeeper Enzo and Elizabeth Perkins’ icy matriarch add to the sense of stylized menace. These characters verge on caricature, but within the film’s exaggerated tone, they feel appropriate.
Sex, Power, and the Fear of Losing Control
Andrew Winchester (Brandon Sklenar) introduces a layer of sexual tension that simmers throughout the film. Handsome, wealthy, and seemingly kind, Andrew becomes a catalyst for rivalry between Millie and Nina. Sklenar is serviceable, though his character functions more as a narrative device than a fully developed individual.
The film consistently explores themes of power and control economic, emotional, and sexual. The Housemaid wears its feminist message openly, depicting women forced to navigate a system that rewards wealth and appearance while punishing vulnerability and dependence.
Style, Music, and Pacing
The score by Theodore Shapiro, supplemented by well-chosen pop songs (including Kelly Clarkson and Linda Ronstadt), adds ironic distance to the film’s most intense moments. Music often clashes deliberately with on-screen violence or tension, reinforcing the darkly comic tone.
The film’s biggest weakness lies in its runtime and pacing. At 131 minutes, The Housemaid occasionally overstays its welcome, especially once the central twists become apparent. Feig tends to overemphasize foreshadowing, and some dialogue feels overly explicit. The editing can feel choppy in places, undermining momentum.
A Finale That Elevates the Film
The final act marks a clear improvement. Once the film fully embraces its campy, violent, and cathartic impulses, it becomes pure, unapologetic entertainment. The altered ending different from the novel works in the film’s favor, delivering a more cinematic and emotionally satisfying conclusion.
Final Thoughts
The Housemaid is a solid, pulpy gothic thriller that doesn’t always hit its mark but compensates with energy, performances, and a strong grasp of its own identity. It may not be as outrageous or as campy as it could have been, but it remains engaging particularly for fans of thrillers like The Hand That Rocks the Cradle or A Simple Favor.
Pros:
+Excellent chemistry and performances from Sydney Sweeney and Amanda Seyfried+Sharp class satire with a clear feminist subtext
+Strong gothic atmosphere and confident genre play
+A very effective final act
+Stylish visuals and well-chosen music
Cons:
-Predictable twists for attentive viewers-Overlong runtime and uneven pacing
-Underdeveloped supporting characters (notably Enzo)
-Dialogue that occasionally drifts into unintentional comedy
Final Rating: 7 / 10
The Housemaid is flawed but entertaining sensational, occasionally absurd, and knowingly exaggerated. It may not be as daring or as fun as it could have been, but it delivers enough style, tension, and performance-driven appeal to make for a satisfying watch.


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