A young woman with a past she wants to keep hidden becomes the live-in housemaid for a wealthy family.
Fellow Generation Xers sinking back into their multiplex seats to watch The Housemaid might think they’ve been transported back to the heady movie days of the late ’80s and ’90s; Paul Feig’s long hot thriller is old-fashioned, over-the-top, sexy and screamingly obvious, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
There’s not a trigger warning in sight, though perhaps there should be one for the hideous crockery that forms a focal point of the story and looks exactly like the free stuff my parents’ generation got from the local garage in the 1970s after collecting points for what felt like 10 years. There is though a lot of talk of privilege, apparently including such basics as teeth, hair and orange juice, which I suppose will appeal to the last of the 21st century self-flagellators who may be watching.
Of course if you’ve read the book you’ll know the twist, which means the first half of the film inevitably lose something, however going in knowing the twists and turns at least means you can simply sink back and enjoy it. And it’s not like readers only found out on the final page anyway – the film is split into two parts, and at the midpoint we find out what’s being going on as the action goes up several notches. Without getting into book vs film territory the film version is understandably more streamlined (mostly to the good, though sadly we lose a lot of Enzo the groundsman) which means it makes more sense. The book is a little messy so it’s good to see its mini plot holes consigned to the bin. And the film whizzes by, despite coming in at well over two hours.
Millie (Sydney Sweeney) is an on-probation ex-con who has lied her way into a live-in job as housemaid to the mercurial and elegant Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried). Like a kitchen tap installed by a cowboy plumber, Nina goes from warm to cold and back again in the blink of an eye, leaving Millie floundering. But Millie needs to keep the job, which means keeping Nina, her young daughter Cece and hot husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) on side.
As Millie gets to know her new milieu, whispers of Nina’s past, explaining her odd behaviour, reach her; while Andrew becomes a looming temptation.
The ghost of my mother when I fail to spot a typo in one of my reviews
Very much reminding me of Alec Baldwin playing a wrong ‘un in Knots Landing back in the ’80s, Sklenar is impossibly handsome (at the start anyway!). But this is really a chickflick and I mean that in the best possible way. Sweeney and Seyfried are perfectly cast as sisters under the skin who eventually put an end to the madness, and there’s a deliciously icy turn from Elizabeth Perkins – looking like a cross between Cruella de Vil and Mr Whippy – as Andrew’s mother, the woman who started it all.
I read the book last summer, borrowed from a colleague, then consumed in 20 minute lunchtime bursts before passing it on to the next woman. 40 years after Virginia Andrews’ Flowers in The Attic whirled like a tornado through every girls school classroom, so The Housemaid seems to have done the same for offices.
The Housemaid is less lurid than Flowers, though Feig’s adaptation has its fair share of drawn-out torture. There’s also a lot of shrieky histrionics from Nina, Seyfried throwing herself delightedly into every self-curated row. She and Sweeney each get to have fun: part 1 has Nina throwing things and blatantly lying while Millie in part 2 shows the violent truth of what injustice and abandonment combined with a decade inside can do to a lady. In between the two sections there’s a Millie ‘n’ Andrew sexy intermission, which I like to think is a naked nod to the interval we used to get halfway through some big budget bonkbuster 40 years ago where the cinema projectionist would pause Glenn Close boiling a bunny so a nice lady could pop in and sell us all ice creams.
Sweeny is excellent as Millie, all doe eyes and swallowed come-backs as Nina throws wild accusations her way. Despite the bonkers storyline Millie’s Achilles heel will strike a chord. Her ability to look after herself – as no one else is going to offer – is massively compromised when Andrew appears to do just that. And for once a character keeping quiet in the face of obvious lies makes perfect sense. Millie has to keep schtum when Nina contradicts herself, getting Millie into trouble, and ignore the red flags that stand in the way of a home and a job.
Sturdy support is supplied by Nina’s school mum frenemies, all wealthy enough not to have had to grow up from being high school mean girls. Though in a film that makes perfect sense within the confines of its own mad world this group’s desperation to fill Millie in on Nina’s failures and Andrew’s perfection is the only thing that doesn’t really ring true. I can imagine them gossiping about Nina to each other, but to the staff?
Note: there is no mid-credits scene. It doesn’t need one as everything is nicely wrapped up at the end.
Read my very spoilery article on The Housemaid: that twist, the ending and what leads up to it
Watch the trailer for The Housemaid: