Ex-con Millie (Sydney Sweeney) takes a job as a housemaid with the picture-perfect Winchesters. Then things begin to go very, very wrong.
In 2018, Paul Feig had a sizeable sleeper hit with A Simple Favour, adapting a successful book into a tart thriller about the secret, sordid lives of beautiful rich people. Another Simple Favour followed earlier this year. The Housemaid lives in a similar world, but everything’s less slick and smart. This is kind of the bargain-bin, airport-novel cousin of A Simple Favour: tacky and ridiculous, but just about entertaining enough to pass the time before you forget it forever.
Based on a 2022 bestseller by publishing superstar Freida McFadden, it centres on Millie (Sydney Sweeney), a young woman trying to outrun her past. Millie has recently been released from prison for an unnamed crime. Her parole requires that she have a job and permanent residence or risk being sent back to the slammer to complete her sentence. She thinks her problems are solved when she’s hired as a housemaid by the super-wealthy, charming Nina (Amanda Seyfried), but within 24 hours, Nina’s having a hysterical tantrum and her daughter Cece (Indiana Elle) is treating Millie like dirt. As her boss’ behaviour gets ever more unhinged, Millie’s only friend in the house is Nina’s devoted, hunky husband, Andrew (Brandon Sklenar).
Seyfried gives some welcome manic energy as Nina, shrieking around her pristine home, part Mommie Dearest, part Stepford Wife.
Anybody who’s ever watched a domestic thriller will already be rearranging those pieces. Sadly, Feig’s film isn’t so savvy. It doesn’t function particularly well as either mystery or thriller. Millie’s an oddly passive hero, meek in Nina’s presence and blushing at Andrew’s inappropriate flirting. The plot, across an unnecessarily luxurious running time, spirals, returning to similar ground over and over so people can impart gossip to Millie. (Ballet class is a strangely frequent location.) Millie’s lack of any real detective work means the story struggles to build tension. There’s little sense of moving toward a solution, rather just waiting for it to present itself. When Millie eventually learns what’s going on, it’s because she’s almost literally smacked across the face with it. The audience will likely be well ahead of her.
Seyfried gives some welcome manic energy as Nina, shrieking around her pristine home, part Mommie Dearest, part Stepford Wife. If only the rest of the film matched her camp level, it might be much more enjoyable. Until the inevitable third-act chaos, Sweeney doesn’t have much more to do than look perturbed.
After an often slack 90 minutes, it’s much more fun in the deranged final half-hour, when it adds its new mad flourishes to the book’s already ripe conclusion. But by that point The Housemaid is trying to neaten up a mess that’s simply too big to handle.
Great houses, shame about the plotting. The sort of glossy nonsense you might happily half-watch on a lazy Sunday.
