The Housemaid Review

On the heels of four Melissa McCarthy comedies, director Paul Feig tried something different with A Simple Favor. The film was witty, stylish, campy, twisted, and an all-around fun time from start to finish. It almost felt like a satire of Gone Girl and the various imitators that followed. In a way, Feig brings things full circle with The Housemaid. If A Simple Favor was his Gone Girl, then The Housemaid is Feig’s The Girl on a Train. The scenery-chewing cast and a few catty one-liners almost make a guilty pleasure. The Housemaid takes itself too seriously to reach that milestone, however.

Sydney Sweeney is Millie, a young woman living out of her car and using a public restroom to bathe herself. Desperate for work and a roof to put over her head, Millie answers an ad for a live-in housemaid. Ten years ago, Amanda Seyfried likely would’ve been the titular housemaid. Here, she plays Nina Winchester, the housewife. To Millie’s surprise, Nina hires her, although the job isn’t what she expected. Neither is Nina, who suddenly becomes meaner than Regina George. Perhaps that’s too generous. Nina acts more like Alex Forrest with mood swings that rock the whole house.

Nina is married to the seemingly perfect Andrew (Brandon Sklenar), who may have eyes for the help. The couple has a young daughter named Cecelia (Indiana Elle), who conveniently disappears whenever the film doesn’t need her around. Likewise, Elizabeth Perkins comes and goes as Andrew’s icy mother. The Winchesters’ social circle consists of gossips who mainly exist to drop exposition bombs about the family. We also learn more about Millie’s past, providing insight into why she puts up with Nina’s apparently bipolar behavior.

After a while, Nina’s mind games can grow tiresome for the audience, but The Housemaid holds our attention as we try to figure out what’s going on. That said, there’s an obvious twist in plain sight from the get-go. Without giving anything away, it’s exactly what you think. By the time we get to this big reveal, there’s still almost an hour left. The Housemaid holds us hostage as it overexplains its twist. Aside from being too predictable, the third act is mostly unpleasant to sit through, lacking the self-awareness of A Simple Favor. The climax also requires one person to become uncharacteristically stupid so we can get a confrontation right out of a Lifetime movie. The attempt to comment on the cycle of abuse is especially eye-rolling.

The Housemaid is based on Freida McFadden’s best-selling book. The source material is foreign to me, but if it’s anything like the movie, the book sounds like the kind you’d read on a plane. Similarly, The Housemaid feels tailored for a long flight. Either that or a night in with a box of wine and a gay best friend who always makes sarcastic remarks while watching bad movies. You’d need a pretty large box of wine and a really funny gay best friend to excuse some of the choices here. The Housemaid wants to be trashy fun, although it weirdly isn’t trashy enough or fun enough. It’s overlong, not as clever as it thinks it is, and like a poor house guest, overstays its welcome.