It seems there is no alternate reality where The Housemaid was predestined to be a “good” film by conventional standards. Inspired by the sensational Freida McFadden novel that holds a twist suitable for a Dateline episode, the film adaptation could have turned out to be either entertaining or a delightful disaster. Instead, it emerges as yet another letdown featuring Sydney Sweeney, following her roles in Madame Web, Eden, and Christy.

Director Paul Feig had the opportunity to lean into the erotic thriller elements present in McFadden’s narrative, reminiscent of wonderfully over-the-top ’90s flicks like The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, Cruel Intentions, or Basic Instinct. These classics combine sex, greed, and psychological games to exhilarating effect. While some might consider this lowbrow, they undeniably offer engaging and thrilling entertainment.

Alternatively, Feig could have drawn inspiration from his Simple Favor films, embracing the campy, twisted joy of watching two leading ladies clash. The Housemaid could have evoked such outrageously alluring and bizarre movies as The Favourite, The Substance, Single White Female, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, or — my personal favorite — Death Becomes Her.

Unfortunately, The Housemaid lacks the flair to stand alongside any of these fierce films. It is certainly devoid of depth. Yet it does feature Sydney Sweeney, once again showcasing her limited range.

Sydney Sweeney is glaringly miscast in The Housemaid.

After the unsuccessful biopic Christy, Sweeney embarks on another role as a working-class woman in the form of Millie Calloway, a struggling twenty-something in dire need of employment and housing. The live-in maid position at the Winchester mansion in Great Neck, Long Island, seems almost too perfect.

Looking after stay-at-home mother Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried), her pretentious daughter Cecilia (Indiana Elle), and her charming husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) should prove manageable. However, shortly after Millie relocates, Nina begins to torment and manipulate her. Millie’s only escape from Nina’s cruelty is Andrew’s compassion. But as the maid and the man grow closer, so does peril.

This storyline turns the Hand That Rocks the Cradle premise on its head, where the humble help is harassed by a malicious housewife. McFadden’s novel was narrated from both Millie and Nina’s viewpoints, offering a glimpse into their thoughts — especially what remains unsaid. The film attempts this through Millie’s journal and a note Nina pens to Cecilia. Yet, The Housemaid largely depends on the actresses’ dialogue and expressions to flesh out their characters. And Sweeney offers little.

Remarkably, the adapted screenplay by Rebecca Sonnenshine provides minimal depth from the outset. The film begins — not in medias res like the book — but with a gloomy Millie driving through Nina’s affluent neighborhood in her shabby vehicle. Sweeney’s vacant demeanor conveys nothing about Millie’s character or feelings. This same expression recurs whether Millie is tormented, seduced, or pushed toward a dramatic response. Far from embodying the resilient survivor from McFadden’s novel, Sweeney’s depiction is so mundane that it becomes tedious to watch. She exhibited more emotion in that contentious jeans advertisement.

Amanda Seyfried goes all out, but can’t salvage The Housemaid.

Feig strayed from the book’s portrayal of Nina, who was described as “overweight” in various ways, opting instead for Seyfried, who bears a resemblance to Sweeney. There’s a hint of Single White Female intrigue as these lookalikes confront each other. However, Seyfried, who delivered one of the standout performances of 2025 with The Testament of Ann Lee, finds herself unsupported by her co-stars and director.

Nina Winchester is intended to be exceedingly unstable. Her actions — in both the book and the film — are passionately erratic,