In a book-to-screen adaptation that is full of seduction, secrecy and suspense, Polly Rogers reviews Paul Fieg’s latest cinematic endeavour.
The Housemaid is a domestic psychological thriller that hit our cinema screens in late December. With an A-list cast at its core, the film grossed over $65 million worldwide in its opening weekend alone. Admittedly, I entered the cinema with low expectations for the film, assuming the production targeted a similar audience to It Ends With Us (2024), especially as both films feature Brandon Sklenar. I was more than pleasantly surprised and entertained by the winding plot which burrowed deep however, with the film taking unexpected twists and turns throughout. These narrative surprises ultimately revealed the catacombs beneath the shallow grave of assumptions I had initially formed of this story.
The film centers on a couple who ooze grace and wealth, employing a live-in housemaid to maintain their mansion and help care for their far-from-prima ballerina daughter. Millie Calloway (Sydney Sweeney) is homeless and struggling to find employment. She eagerly jumps at this job opportunity which seems almost too good to be true, considering her false resume. All appears well at first, but the longer she remains in the household, the cracks within this seemingly perfect family begin to show through the plastered walls. As well as this, her own secrets loom deep, threatening to be exposed.
Amanda Seigfried steps into the role of graceful and psychotic trophy wife, Nina Winchester. As a surface-level PTA beauty whose true character only emerges behind closed doors, Seigfried is incredible in this role, revelling in the psychosis of Nina. A versatile and timeless actress, her performance allows the audience to witness the joy that she exudes in playing a schizophrenic character who is nothing but a ticking time bomb. Brandon Sklenar, plays the ever reasonable level headed Andrew Winchester. Depicted as a saint to put up with his wife, he is a rich businessman; perfect, trustworthy and sweet, and a constant negotiator on behalf of Millie when she accidentally rubs Nina the wrong way.
Sydney Sweeny, while a person of questionable views and mixed public opinions as of late, is undeniably talented. Her angsty, tough portrayal of Millie persists in her determination to remain in a job from which many would flee. Her falsely sweet and backhanded delivery, generates a constant flicker of doubt regarding her true intentions over the course of the film. The audience alternates between viewing her through the lens of a home aid who is desperate for income and an adulterer who becomes a vigilante in her own right.
The beauty of affluence within this film is visually exploited through the architecture of this expansive house, which we initially see as a snowdusted installment upon millionaires row. The interior is an expensive contrast of light walls with dark, deep wooden furniture and panelling, which frames and confines the events that will happen within.
A similar feat is achieved through the choices made by costume designer Renee Ehrlich Kalfus. We often see Nina dressed in soft, creamy suits and sleek whites, creating an immaculate halo around the persona of this blonde housewife. Her pearly, perfect appearance greets Millie's moody and murky mystique of darker hues and worn rough garments, which seem unfitting and alien within the Winchester’s home.
Director Paul Fieg and screenwriter Rebecca Sonnenshine collaborate to adapt Freida McFadden’s novel of the same name into an intricate web of lies and deceit, that are gradually unraveled on screen through gossip and eavesdropping. Intentionally scattered from the start, the film immerses us in small details of beauty and symmetry. These details later mirror poignant moments of the plot, showing the subtle yet incessant undercurrent of foreshadowing.
The subtle suspense of seduction and secrecy is thick within this Long Island suburb, making this film a must-see for movie lovers far and wide.