Since its release on December 19, 2025, The Housemaid has become one of the most talked-about thrillers in recent memory, drawing audiences into a chilling world of manipulation, psychological tension, and buried secrets. Directed by Paul Feig and starring Amanda Seyfried, Sydney Sweeney, and Brandon Sklenar, the film has not only captivated critics but has also made an impressive mark at the box office, signaling a resurgence for adult-oriented thrillers in the post-pandemic era.
At its core, The Housemaid is a story about perception, power, and the insidious nature of abuse. The film opens with what appears to be a familiar setup: Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried), the wealthy and seemingly unhinged wife, torments her younger housemaid Millie (Sydney Sweeney) while keeping her husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) in the dark. But, as noted by Felix Online, Feig deftly subverts expectations, turning the genre’s clichés on their head. The initial impression of a simple predator-prey dynamic slowly unravels, revealing layers of manipulation and shifting power that leave viewers questioning every character’s motives and every scene’s reality.
The tension between the three leads is palpable from the start. Sklenar’s Andrew, with his outward perfection and subtle possessiveness, seems trustworthy at first glance. Yet, as the story progresses, cracks begin to show. In one memorable moment, Sklenar’s grip on Sweeney’s character hints at the darker turns to come. These fleeting glimpses of vulnerability and rage—especially the scene where he loses control, his facade shattered—underscore the film’s central theme: that manipulation and abuse often wear the mask of normalcy until it is too late.
Seyfried’s performance as Nina is a masterclass in unpredictability. She oscillates between eerie stillness—her eyes just a little too wide—and explosive outbursts, always keeping the audience on edge. She is, as Felix Online describes, "the eye of the storm," a force of nature whose motives are as inscrutable as they are terrifying. Sweeney, meanwhile, brings a raw vulnerability to Millie, making her descent into the Winchester household’s web of secrets feel both inevitable and heartbreaking.
Much of the film’s power lies in its narrative technique. Feig withholds crucial information from the audience, creating a sense of dread and uncertainty that mirrors the characters’ own confusion. This gap between what the viewer knows and what the characters perceive makes their decisions feel both wrong and tragically realistic. The film’s depiction of manipulation is particularly striking—what seems obvious from the outside is nearly invisible to those caught within its grasp. The flirtation between Sklenar and Sweeney’s characters is a prime example: so clichéd that it’s almost laughable, yet chilling in its effectiveness.
The attic scenes are where the film’s psychological games turn physical and moral boundaries begin to collapse. Both Sweeney and Sklenar push each other to extremes, their performances exposing the pain and disgust that manipulation breeds. Sklenar’s hatred for imperfection and Sweeney’s revulsion toward deceit are laid bare, making these moments feel all too real. The film doesn’t shy away from the brutality of abuse but presents it in a way that’s unsettlingly intimate.
As the narrative races toward its conclusion, Feig delivers a gut-punch of a twist that reframes everything that came before. The final scene, in which Sweeney’s Millie interviews for a job in yet another abusive household, circles back to Seyfried’s earlier exposition. Here, the film makes a pointed commentary on society’s tendency to doubt victims and excuse abusers—especially when the abuser is a "perfect man." Seyfried’s character laments, "She blames the position she has ended up in as the product of a society that could not believe the wrong of a perfect man, therefore blaming the woman he supported." It’s a stark reminder of how easily women’s voices can be dismissed or destroyed through careful manipulation.
Despite this powerful message, some critics argue that The Housemaid ultimately grants its audience too much comfort. By framing abuse as a twist to be uncovered rather than a harsh reality to be endured, the film allows viewers to keep a safe distance from the consequences it depicts. "By resolving abuse as spectacle rather than consequence, The Housemaid grants its audience the same comfort it pretends to interrogate," notes Felix Online. It’s a criticism that speaks to the ongoing debate about how cinema should handle difficult topics—should it provoke discomfort, or offer catharsis?
Whatever one’s take on its narrative choices, there’s no denying the film’s commercial success. According to Koimoi, The Housemaid has grossed $121.59 million at the North American box office as of February 6, 2026. Despite a recent dip (down 42.1% from the previous Wednesday, with $284,000 in receipts), the film remains a strong performer, especially considering the competition from new releases and its simultaneous availability on digital platforms. Worldwide, the film’s haul stands at $316.6 million, with projections suggesting it could reach as high as $400 million—a remarkable feat for an R-rated thriller released late in the year.
One of the most notable milestones for the film is its impending surpassing of the domestic box office total of Five Nights at Freddy’s 2, which earned $127.7 million. As Koimoi reports, The Housemaid is just $6 million shy of this mark, and when it overtakes it, Sydney Sweeney’s film will have achieved a significant distinction, especially given its late release and the crowded field of 2025’s cinematic offerings. Five Nights at Freddy’s 2 currently ranks as the 20th highest-grossing film of 2025, and The Housemaid is poised to join that elite company.
The film’s international appeal is also worth noting. With strong overseas numbers and a projected global total in the $350–$400 million range, The Housemaid stands as a testament to the enduring power of well-crafted suspense and psychological drama. Its success is all the more impressive given the challenges faced by adult-oriented films in the streaming era, where competition for attention is fiercer than ever.
For audiences, The Housemaid offers more than just thrills. It’s a meditation on the ways manipulation can warp perception and erode trust, on the difficulty of recognizing abuse from within, and on the societal forces that too often protect the powerful at the expense of the vulnerable. By weaving these themes into a tightly wound narrative, Feig and his cast have created a work that lingers long after the credits roll—provoking questions, discomfort, and, perhaps, a bit of self-reflection in all who watch.
As The Housemaid continues its remarkable box office run and sparks conversation about the realities of manipulation and abuse, it stands as a reminder of cinema’s ability to both entertain and illuminate the shadows that persist in everyday life.