An anonymous bookseller remarked during the craze around Freida McFadden’s The Housemaid that it was “a book for non-readers”. If this is the case, then its adaptation, directed by Paul Feig and starring Sydney Sweeney in the titular role, is certainly a film for ‘non-cinema goers’. Quick, entertaining, with its fair share of twists, The Housemaid certainly isn’t Oscar material – but despite its perceived status, it doesn’t do exactly what it says on the tin either.
Sweeney plays the out-of-luck Millie, a desperate twenty something out on parole and living in her car. Fired from her most recent job, she jumps at the occasion when the elegant and wealthy Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried) offers her a job as a live-in housemaid to care for her and her family, husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) and daughter Cece (Indiana Elle). Despite Nina’s initial friendliness however, it quickly becomes clear that she has problems of her own, and that the Winchesters have a dark past, source of much gossiping among “the PTA moms”. Desperate to avoid returning to prison despite stranger and stranger behaviour, Millie keeps her head down, but an obvious attraction to Andrew begins to pose an issue of its own.
Aside from its very obvious campness, there are some glaring upsets in The Housemaid that tilt it towards the realm of the ridiculous. The soundtrack is a mess for the most part, aside from the occasional haunting lull of an actual instrument rather than an autotuned mess of a pop song mid-scene. Montages, including a painfully uncomfortable sex scene that more than outstays its welcome, feel very amateurish, laughable, especially paired with aforementioned autotune. And despite it fitting quite well with her character, Sweeney is stoical for the vast majority of The Housemaid, rendering her arc strangely unfeeling – Seyfried and even Sklenar to a certain extent however more than make up for it. The former’s range is on great display in 2026 between this and The Testament of Ann Lee.
Nevertheless, it’s safe to say that The Housemaid is nothing short of an entertainment feast, between mad wives, forbidden love, and luxurious Long Island homes. There isn’t a second of boredom in sight and, what more, it’s rather good at not taking itself too seriously, a little silly in certain places, all while meaning to be. As such, with its roguish ending and atypical characters, it doesn’t feel as generic as expected, despite a heftily convenient conclusion. What’s upsetting, really, is that it could have been something altogether classier despite its stylish aesthetic – quick read thrillers like Big Little Lies and Nine Perfect Strangers have since been turned into genuinely exciting works, accurately portraying womanhood, grief, and friendships. Perhaps then, all in all, it is just a shame that Reese Witherspoon didn’t pick this one up.
