The Housemaid review: Amanda Seyfried shines in a satisfyingly scary chiller that doesn't take itself too seriously

It’s rarely easy when a job requires you to nest full-time in somebody else’s house, especially if your boss is unhinged to the point where her moods swing as much as one of Tarzan’s jungle creepers.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, though, so recently paroled jailbird Millie (Sydney Sweeney) fudges her CV to secure gainful employment as live-in maid to a well-do-family, in order to avoid being sent back behind bars.

If the above reads like Millie is the villain of the piece, wait ‘til you get a load of the woman paying her wages – Amanda Seyfried’s Nina Winchester, moneybags queen of her own fancy castle, wife to the ruggedly handsome Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) and mother to precocious pre-teen Cece (Indiana Elle).

Nina, you see, has a history of mental instability she hides beneath a veneer of confident, capable elegance, but which routinely makes itself known via screaming, violent outbursts when even the tiniest of cats get among her palatial pigeons.

And so the scene is set for a psycho-thriller with a generous slice of ham, in which director Paul Feig grabs a copy of author Freida McFadden’s 2022, award-winning source novel and amplifies its sinister tones for a deliriously over-the-top tale of terror.

The very picture of a benign people pleaser, Millie finds herself in hot water whenever one of Nina’s “episodes” results in wrongful accusations of her throwing away important paperwork, or stealing clothes and cars, but she takes it on the chin to stay out of chokey.

Where is hubby Andrew when all this manufactured mayhem rears its ugly head, you ask? Yes, Millie’s hands are pretty much tied, due to the precariousness of her position, but surely the man of the house can’t keep turning a blind eye to the escalating apple cart upsets under his own roof…

Fear not, because a truly audacious, out-there twist is on its way that will have viewers scurrying back to reassess all they’ve seen, and change their opinions of the folk they’ve been watching thus far.

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Feig has previous form walking the darker corridors of domesticity, but whereas 2018’s A Simple Favour revels in blackly comedic upheavals to happy homes, The Housemaid is a genuinely unsettling depiction of dysfunctional families and breathtaking cruelty.

He’s assisted enormously in piling on the peril by the wild-eyed performance of his leading lady, flitting from pantomime-like to pure evil at the drop of an expensive hat; it’s a peach of a role for any actress, but Seyfried intuitively knows when to be ridiculous and when to really put the frighteners on.

Sweeney is almost as impressive, even if audiences are initially baffled by how casual she is as the put-upon hired help; if anything, the facade of serenity is the ideal set-up for when the script throws a spanner in the works and her plucky, creative heroine chops come to the fore.

Sklenar’s contribution is harder to discuss here without spoilers, but we learn a little about him early on in scenes with his overbearing, judgmental mother (a perfectly pitched Elizabeth Perkins, it would have been good to see more of her), while 11-year-old Elle hits all the right notes as the brattish, sharp-tongued junior Winchester.

Feig could be accused of over-egging puddings in the way he ultimately ties the threads of his characters together, and there are one or two moments when too close an examination of his house of cards might send it tumbling to the ground, but the end result is a satisfyingly scary chiller that benefits from not always taking itself seriously.

Since McFadden’s original novel became a best seller she has published two equally well-received sequels, just as ripe for big-screen adaptation.

Let’s hope so, because on this evidence the further adventures of a maid-in-hell seem made in heaven.

The Housemaid will be released in UK cinemas on 26th December.

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