Reviews
‘The Housemaid’ Review – Deranged, Twisty Thriller Delivers Crowd-Pleasing Fun
Author Freida McFadden recently went on record saying she might prefer director Paul Feig and screenwriter Rebecca Sonnenshine‘s feature adaptation of her novel, The Housemaid, over the book itself. I’m inclined to agree. The salacious twists of McFadden’s massive hit novel get dialed up to a delightfully deranged degree, making for a wildly entertaining psychological thriller that lets Amanda Seyfried and Sydney Sweeney cut loose in the most darkly comedic and violent ways.
Millie (Sweeney) is down on her luck and desperate for a job. She’s broke and homeless, and without much in the way of job experience. So much so that Millie doesn’t expect to ever hear back from wealthy PTA mom Nina Winchester (Seyfried) after interviewing for a live-in housemaid position, a job for which she’s not actually qualified. Yet Nina does just that, to the confusion of her husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) and daughter Cecelia (Indiana Elle). That’s the first sign that Millie’s dream job is destined to curdle into a nightmare as Nina’s behavior grows more erratic, plunging both women into one twisted game of psychological warfare.
Sydney Sweeney as Millie Calloway and Amanda Seyfried as Nina Winchester in The Housemaid. Photo Credit: Daniel McFaddenThe Housemaid. Photo Credit: Daniel McFadden/Lionsgate
There’s a deranged frog-in-boiling-water quality to the first half, as Millie tries her best to keep her new employer happy. A task that’s far tougher than it should be with such a volatile, mercurial boss like Nina, who’s prone to lashing out in extremes. Seyfried throws herself into Nina’s dramatics with gusto, shifting audience allegiances to the beleaguered Millie along with Nina’s own husband, who’s empathetic to the torment she endures. Just when you think you have a handle on what’s happening, however, Feig pulls the rug out from under you with a series of bombshells and sharp detours into a back half that keeps the insanity ramping up at a steady clip.
Sonnenshine’s careful plotting doles out clues piecemeal, ensuring that very little is telecast in advance. Even though savvy viewers will likely connect one major piece of the puzzle early on, that means that when Millie finally decides she’s had enough, the gloves come off and secrets spill out in violent fashion. It’s about here when Sweeney’s mild-mannered Millie begins to show her claws, matching Seyfried’s madness beat-for-beat.
Sydney Sweeney as Millie Calloway in The Housemaid. Photo Credit: Daniel McFadden/Lionsgate
Feig directs the raucous thriller with effortless style, showcasing just how badly behaved and awful the obscenely rich really are in that same heightened reality and sense of pitch black humor that made A Simple Favor such a blast. Feig is much more pointed here, though, with The Housemaid‘s underlying themes much weightier. Sonnenshine’s script may revel in the cattiness between women, but never at the expense of the film’s explorations of more sensitive subject matter or its ultimate catharsis- and The Housemaid builds to a deeply satisfying conclusion.
An endless string of dangerous secrets and an explosive performance by Seyfried keep you firmly on the hook until the pent-up tension explodes into insanity, as camp, violence, and empowerment collide. It’s a crowd-pleaser through and through, one meant to be seen with a rowdy audience on board with the wild swings taken. Feig and Sonnenshine push the novel’s more outrageous aspects even further, injecting even bigger thrills, twists, and stakes. It’s the type of operatic insanity that practically begs for more. Considering McFadden transformed her novel into a series and this adaptation’s triumphant ending, here’s to hoping The Housemaid stays gainfully employed.
The Housemaid releases in theaters on December 19, 2025.
Movies
‘Recluse’ Review – Harrowing Haunted House Horror With Lots Of Skeletons In Its Closet [Tribeca 2026]
A haunted house story is tense, terrifying storytelling when it’s properly executed. There’s been a growing tendency in horror to blend together harrowing haunted house stories with traumatic homecomings. A family member’s illness or death triggers a return to something dark that was intentionally left behind. Recluse hits all the tropes that one expects to find in this type of horror film, yet it manages to push this story in a daring, disturbing new direction that uses sound as a superpower.
It’s a unique lens to experience a familiar story about family secrets, generational trauma, unresolved grief, and the importance of not just legacy, but preservation. It’s a hell of a directorial debut from Henry Chaisson that’s guaranteed to get under the audience’s skin as they’re dragged through this painful, toxic tale.
Recluse is a gothic haunted house story where an isolated audio engineer, Joan (Sasha Frolova), returns to her family’s estate to check in on her father after he suffers a terrible accident. Joan suddenly discovers something much more sinister that paints her family’s tragedies in a very different light. Chaisson’s debut functions as a fascinating companion piece to this year’s undertone, which does a lot of the same things.
These two films make for a fascinating case of parallel thinking that tackles comparable subject matter through a similar lens, albeit in a bigger, less claustrophobic story in Recluse’s case. In fact, it’s the perfect horror film for anyone who was let down by undertone and didn’t feel like it brought enough to the table. It’s a considerably more conventional horror film, but this isn’t meant to denigrate its high quality. Recluse may hit some familiar notes, but it’s a scary, well-crafted haunted house horror story that goes for the jugular.
A gripping mystery that involves the tragic, unresolved circumstances that surround Joan’s mother teases a chilling connection to the recent horrors that have afflicted her father. Joan desperately tries to put these pieces together and give her family some sense of grander peace before she’s pulled under and becomes another victim of this festering curse that’s systematically worked its way through the Wyatt family. By doing so, Recluse digs into some deeper commentary on collective trauma, a very literal look at the “sins of the father” adage, and how one selfish decision can ripple through generations and fracture off into different dilemmas. By the end, Recluse has brilliantly flipped the powerful concept of legacy on its head by illustrating the horrors and sense of entitlement that can be born out of this idea.
A legacy is just another name for a curse under the right context.
”Listen” is a simple but powerful command from Joan’s father that she briefly obsesses over. In a way, it becomes Recluse’s grander mission statement, whether it’s in response to Joan listening to the people in her life, the signals that her body and mind are telling her, or the world’s greater whims. It’s important to reconnect with these grounding pillars, especially when it feels like control is slipping away.
Recluse excels with how audio and soundscapes can create entire universes that are full of rich details that transport individuals to these environments. There’s also a level of objectivity when it comes to audio recordings and the evergreen permanence that they’re able to provide. Joan’s career as an audio engineer makes sense for someone who wants to cling to hard evidence and proof of existence. It provides great insight into Joan without ever getting lost in contrived exposition.
Joan’s entire life is built around audio engineering, and so it makes sense that Recluse features excellent sound design that really goes above and beyond with its production elements. All of the sound design is expertly handled and turns the film into something special. These auditory elements intuitively keep the audience on edge so that they’re more susceptible to the actual scares that eventually strike. The smallest sound effect gets turned into a crushing, cacophonous assault. It’s a really effective way to build terror. Writer/Director Chaisson also handles the film’s music, which achieves a sublime, unnerving dissonance that further heightens the free-floating anxiety.
The story at the center of Recluse is slightly generic in some respects, but the film’s visual language and tone make it feel distinctly memorable. It also doesn’t hurt that the home that Joan returns to is basically an eerie art studio that’s full of contorted paintings. Recluse never struggles to generate mounting dread and terror that pump through every scene. Powerful, thoughtful cinematography consistently reinforces the film’s themes. Joan is constantly reflected in different surfaces or viewed through mirrors. She’s also often confined to tight, constricting framing that all speaks to her refracted identity during this moment of loss and her attempts to regain agency and control by making sense of something that’s seemingly unexplainable.
Recluse is full of truly disturbing visuals that make it seem like Joan is lost in a dream that turns out to be an extended nightmare. It’s a surreal journey reminiscent of invasive psychological horror like Silent Hill, with a touch of Sinister and Hereditary thrown in for good measure. There are so many individual frames that could endlessly fuel urban legends and creepypastas.
It does a great job with how it presents Joan’s fragile state of mind, where chilling flashes of the past sneak up on her and unresolved trauma manifests into unsettling imagery. There are endless shots that are obscured in darkness, or shadow is creeping in from the corners of frames like a suffocating force of nature. It’s very rare that a scene is fully lit. It leads to a very lonely, isolating atmosphere that’s easy to get lost in.
Chaisson’s debut stands out from the many other high-minded haunted house horror films without succumbing to the same pretensions that often drag down these stories. It’s a grief-stricken character study that’s full of upsetting visuals that scratch at something visceral and raw. The horror elements connect, and the answers to its grander mystery provide an appropriate and believable sense of closure. Those who are looking for an atmospheric horror film that isn’t afraid to be different while still channeling something real will appreciate Recluse.
Recluse made its world premiere at Tribeca; release info TBD.
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