Psychological thrillers are very dependent on how everything feels.
“The Housemaid” takes full advantage of that.
The tension in “The Housemaid” doesn’t come from what you see, but from what you feel. Adapted from the novel of the same name, the film transforms the story into a psychological slow-burn, emphasizing discomfort, restraint and distrust.
The movie isn’t about throwing around raw emotions or giving each actor a big “career-changing” performance, but about the subtle changes that make a common person feel uneasy.
The film follows Millie (Sydney Sweeney) as she enters the world of a rich family after accepting what appears to be a simple housekeeping job. As she gets to know the Winchesters, she starts to peel back the layers of who they really are and questions why she’s there to begin with.
The movie’s main selling point is its visual depiction of the book’s internal tension. The novel relies on a character’s inner monologue to convey emotion throughout the story, whereas the film relies more on hard cuts and dialogue. There’s a safe feeling you get when Millie is sitting in her room walking us through her thoughts. It helps drain the uneasiness.
But unease might be the strongest feeling in the film, often built only through camerawork, silence and scenes that limit the number of characters on screen.
Viewers are given no instructions for interpretation. Having to sit and ponder what you just saw makes “The Housemaid” all the creepier.
That decision makes the experience of seeing the film at times personal and at others claustrophobic.
Every pause is intentional. Every interaction carries weight.
The film trusts its audience to interpret meaning for themselves, just as a psychological thriller should.
Pacing plays a huge role in the film’s tone. Rather than rushing toward constant gasps, “The Housemaid” allows the emotional tension to build, often giving Millie moments of introspection as she questions her surroundings, much like the audience questions the odd gut feeling they have after every frame.
Scenes are allowed to breathe, creating an atmosphere where even the most ordinary beats feel intense.
The suspense isn’t loud or dramatic; it’s persistent. And with the film avoiding spectacle, the smallest details become the most unsettling, making performance the emotional backbone of the story.
Without constant internal narration, actors communicate through subtle expressions, body language and silence. An immediate sense of discomfort arises during Millie’s first interactions with the family’s husband, Andrew Winchester (Brandon Sklenar).
If you’re looking for a movie filled with constant surprises, this is not the film for you. “The Housemaid” is really good at making you feel scared, but it builds tension very slowly. So, if that sounds like you, then “The Housemaid” is absolutely worth watching.
As for the book, the film does a good job of reeling you in for more. Watching the film before reading the novel works, but doing the opposite does the story as much justice.
The film is good for people who have already read the novel, and the book works as a standalone for newcomers, allowing for a more comprehensive experience.
“The Housemaid” proves that the most effective thrillers don’t need to shout. Sometimes, the quietest stories are the ones that linger the longest – staying with you long after the screen goes dark.
