The Housemaid
2025
If you’ve seen the trailers for The Housemaid—which you almost certainly have if you’ve been to a movie in the past three months—you know what to expect: sexy people with secrets leading to a surprising and violent climax. They are very well-made trailers, and that soapy craftsmanship extends to the entire movie, which is in no way spoiled by the trailer’s imagery. This is your basic chick-lit thriller, but directed by Paul Feig. And that makes all the difference.
The Housemaid maintains the perfect balance of letting you know exactly what to expect but not giving away what’s about to happen. This makes it deliciously entertaining in the vein of A Simple Favor or Big Little Lies. Every actor is as impossibly perfect as the house at the film’s center: glossy, sculpted, and dressed for maximum effect. The smoldering groundskeeper, however, is entirely superfluous and never earns the right to be in the story at all. Ignore him (if you can). Basically, it’s a three-way power struggle between a rich hunk (Brandon Sklenar), his unpredictable wife (Amanda Seyfried), and their mysterious new maid (Sydney Sweeney).
It’s a film that slots perfectly into the “guilty pleasure” label. It’s a little pulp, a little mystery, a little romance, and a little horror…but it’s never just little. Feig embraces the conventions of the genre without shame or abandon, giving us our eye-candy and our catharsis while gliding through a world that is operatic instead of realistic.
I enjoyed it a lot. The plot is very well constructed, and the performances are perfectly elevated to match its edge-of-camp joys. It makes great use of perfectly-paired musical tracks. The word “privilege” becomes a leitmotif as well as the theme of keeping up appearances at all costs…but these potentially weighty subjects are simply a sugary dusting on top of a rich pastry. Is the storytelling perfect? No. Does it all hold together upon scrutiny? No. But is it a great story and a very good time? Oh, yeah.
And best movie moment of the year: Sydney Sweeney needs an f-ing sandwich? Yeah, maybe.
Really apreciate the honest take here. That bit about privilege being a leitmotif but ultimately just sugary dusting on a rich pastry is spot on. So many thrillers try to inject weightier themes but then back away from actually exploring them. Sounds like Feig knew exactly what kind of movie he was making and leaned all the way in.