Brandon Sklenar

The Housemaid

28/12/25

Strand Cinema, Rhyl

It’s the dying days of 2025 and, mostly due to an apparent absence of Marty Supreme in Wales, we plump for The Housemaid as our post-Christmas watch. Directed by Paul Feig and adapted by Rebecca Sonnenshine (from Freida McFadden’s 2022 novel), The Housemaid is a twisty-turny sado-thriller, where everything’s dialled up to 11 and any hint of subtlety has gone straight through the nearest attic window. This isn’t necessarily a criticism, so much as an observation.

Millie Calloway (Sydney Sweeney) is desperately seeking employment. Ten years into a fifteen-year prison sentence (it’s a long time before we find out what she actually did to get there), she’s been released on good behaviour and is now living in her car and finding work where she can. When she lands an interview as housemaid at the swanky residence of the Winchester family, she’s desperate to get the job, though her expectations are understandably low.

Her potential employer, Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried), seems like the perfect easygoing boss, though Nina’s daughter Cerce (Indiana Elle) gives every indication of being a sour little grump-bucket. Nina’s husband, Andrew (Brandon Sklenar), on the other hand, seems like a regular saint: handsome, ripped and blessed with a perfect grin. But no sooner has Millie landed the job of her dreams than Nina starts to reveal a very different side to her personality. She’s prone to flying into angry fits and taking every opportunity to make Millie look bad in front of her friends.

And then the first of several major plot twists occurs and it becomes clear that nothing in this scenario is quite as straightforward as it initially appears…

Okay, so The Housemaid isn’t destined to win any prizes for nuance, preferring instead to keep upping the ante at every opportunity, joyfully ramping up the anxiety, the sadism and the nasty injury detail. (Delicate viewers may feel compelled to look away at key moments.) The central trio offer colourful interpretations of their roles, with Seyfried in particular revelling with relish in Nina’s unfettered gear changes, and just about managing to stop herself from chewing the scenery.

If some of the story’s later developments test my credulity, well, at least I’m never bored and – as the film thunders into its final furlong – I find myself laughing out loud at its absurdities. Rhyl’s new Strand Cinema offers customers a choice of five crystal-sharp screens with clean, loud Dolby stereo and plenty of legroom. Those looking to blow away the post-prandial fug of too much Xmas excess, may find this to be just the ticket.

3.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Drop

18/04/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’m not at all sure about Drop at first. It begins with a woman trying to escape a brutal attack from a violent man, the camera lingering on her battered face, so I’m worried it’s going to tread the ‘female suffering as spectacle’ path – and that, therefore, I’ll hate it. Thankfully, this approach is limited to the opening scene, and things quickly take a turn for the better.

The woman, Violet (Meghann Fahy), is a psychotherapist, specialising in survivors of domestic abuse. She knows what they’ve endured because she’s been there too. Since her ex’s death, dating hasn’t exactly been her priority: she’s been focusing on raising her son, Toby (Jacob Robinson), and building her career. But her sister, Jen (Violett Beane), thinks it’s time that Violet had some fun, and persuades her to meet up with the guy she’s been chatting to via social media. He seems nice, and Jen’ll babysit Toby. What’s the worst that can happen?

Henry (Brandon Sklenar) is almost too good to be true. He’s handsome, charming and easy to talk to. Sure, the fancy restaurant he’s suggested for their date is situated on the top floor of a soaring skyscraper, but how is he supposed to know that Violet’s afraid of heights? Palate has an excellent reputation and a lovely atmosphere. Surely this is the start of something promising…

But then Violet begins to receive mysterious ‘digi-drops’ (airdrops), which gradually grow more threatening in tone. Digi-drops can only be sent within a fifty-metre radius, so she knows they’re coming from within the restaurant. But, of course, there are countless people glued to their phones; how can she identify who’s responsible? And anyway, that’s soon the least of her worries because, before she knows it, she’s being instructed to murder her date – and, if she refuses, her tormenter says he will kill her son.

If the premise sounds preposterous, that’s because it is, but the script – by Jillian Jacobs and Chris Roach – is genuinely thrilling, the tension ramped up with each passing minute. Fahy convinces as the desperate woman, fighting an unseen enemy with everything she’s got, and the plot is twisty, turny and delightfully unpredictable. Indeed, under Christopher Landon’s direction, Drop exhibits as much sophistication as Palate‘s Michelin-starred dishes – until we reach the final scenes, where ‘bold’ segues into ‘bonkers’ and ‘believability’ flies out of the smashed window.

In the end, the good outweighs the bad, and I leave the cinema more than satisfied by this exciting whodunnit with its appealing central duo and intriguing cast of suspects.

4 stars

Susan Singfield