Paul Feig has shown an intriguing cinematic progression from BRIDESMAIDS to THE HEAT and then to A SIMPLE FAVOR. A sly penchant, if you will, for films of the noir nature, a penchant that he brings to full fruition with THE HOUSEMAID. In this perfectly executed psychological thriller nothing and no one is quite that they seem to be, and the tantalizing clues that Feig drops with a subtle panache give nothing away even as it builds an overwhelming sense of foreboding. The only negative thing I can think to say about this gem is that writing a review that gives nothing away is going to be a trial.
Here goes.
The eponymous servant is Millie (Sydney Sweeney), a down-on-her-luck waif relieved beyond measure to land a cushy live-in housekeeper/cook job with the Winchesters, an affluent couple with a dream home and a perfect life. Perfect is a concept that pervades the action, and Feig has honed in on the uncanniness of that state of being with a wicked precision The lady of the house, a, ahem, perfect example of New York Suburban WASP, Nina (Amanda Seyfried), shrugs off why someone so overqualified would want the position and welcomes Millie with a childlike enthusiasm and a people-pleaser attitude. Nina is blonde, beautiful, and married to Andrew (Brandon Skelnar), a devastatingly handsome tech tycoon who dabbles in home design. Their seven-year-old, Cecilia (Indiana Elle) is a budding ballerina with a daunting air and a no-nonsense approach to the help.
The house is right out of Architectural Digest echoed by the, further ahem, perfect replica built by Andrew for Cecilia where the girl can work out some psychodramas. If asked why things seem off, Millie, and we, would be hard-pressed to come up with specifics for why the atmosphere of this sunny home is so charged. Aside, that is, from the way that Nina seems to pop up out of nowhere startling the new hire, that mysterious groundskeeper, Enzo (Michele Morrone) who scowls all but wordlessly at Millie’s repeated attempts to be friendly, and Andrew’s imperious mother (Elizabeth Perkins), a towering master of ice-cold passive aggression. Knowing looks that invite conspiracy, fits of frenzy that explode from nowhere, and the consequences of dark roots keep the action lively and the audience just distracted enough to enjoy being hoodwinked.
The cast, tasked with playing several layers simultaneously, are sheer delight, as each carefully composed persona gives way to another that maintains a tangential but fierce tie to the previous one. The twists and turns are perfectly logical in hindsight, and all the more delicious as a result, as reveal follows reveal with a RASHOMON inspired narrative.
THE HOUSEMAID does a masterful job of playing into the paranoia of what happens beneath the shiny veneer of perfection. Or is it a wish fulfillment as insidious as the secrets that lurk beneath the monogramed gates of the ultra-wealthy, and are carelessly gossiped about in front of the staff because they are not so very different than the furniture? A need to pick apart perfection and expose a dark underbelly? Either way, this is a scathingly clever entertainment that posits cupcakes as foreplay, heirlooms as weapons, and justice as something that can, and should be, extra-legal.
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