The Housemaid

Director: Paul Feig
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Amanda Seyfried, Brandon Sklenar, Michele Morrone, Elizabeth Perkins, Indiana Elle, Amanda Joy Erickson, Megan Ferguson, Ellen Tamaki
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

Paul Feig's The Housemaid is the kind of stylishly silly throwback thriller they don't make enough of anymore, or at least not this well. Just when you think it's winding down is when it really gets going as a relatively straightforward premise flies off the rails in the best possible way. And while feelings may vary on how effectively the film reconciles its two distinct sections, it remains committed enough to its trashiness that you can't help but be on board. Everyone involved knew exactly what they're making and it shows, especially as the situation grows nuttier by the minute.  

Rather than questioning why a character didn't do this or that or nitpicking about the details, you'll spend  more time awkwardly rooting for an extra-marital affair you know is coming. But even as its campy scenario descends into "MeToo" era melodrama with a side plate of torture porn, this never wavers in tone, earning a leeway so many entertainingly bad movies in its genre don't. And for that and more, it's definitely Feig's most audacious directorial effort yet, if not his craziest. 

On parole and living out of her car, Millie Calloway (Sweeney) is hired by Nina Winchester (Amanda Seyfried) as a live-in housekeeper, arriving at the Great Neck, Long Island mansion she shares with wealthy tech mogul husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) and daughter Cece (Indiana Elle). And after impressing a seemingly pleasant and accommodating Nina in her interview, Millie's hired and given the attic guestroom and a new phone. Soon, she's cleaning, running errands and picking up Cece from dance class, only to find Nina's treatment of her starts becoming wildly unpredictable and downright abusive. 

Whether Nina's screaming at Millie for some imagined indiscretion or threatening to fire her for no good reason at all, she quickly realizes this woman's psychotic, a theory confirmed by Nina's chatty, backstabbing housewife clique. Desperate to keep this job as a condition of her parole, Millie finds support from the kind, laid-back Andrew, who's equally repulsed by his wife's behavior, which he attributes to a traumatic childhood event. But as Millie and Andrew grow closer, a jealous Nina becomes increasingly unhinged, setting off a dangerous series of events that causes everyone's secrets to spill.

When Millie first arrives at the Winchester house hidden behind a pair of mousey glasses, we immediately suspect she's hiding something, most likely related to her stint in prison for this unknown crime. Those unfamiliar with Freida McFadden's 2022 novel on which the film's based may assume she's running some sort of scam to fleece the family of their fortune. But while the theory's credible, it's also shelved right away, even as Millie's mysterious past remains an important detail that's touched upon throughout. 

As the story's self conscious narrator, Millie reveals flashes of her personality in scenes with her understanding parole officer or when quietly expressing concern over the obsessively detailed Nina somehow missing her criminal record in a background search. But in the meantime she contends with the boss from hell as Nina's initially warm, welcoming disposition quickly deteriorates, alternating between phony tradwife and irrational monster. All this as empathetic husband Andrew displays the patience of a saint, managing Nina's mental illness like a pro while also handling his snobby, perfectionist mother (an icy Elizabeth Perkins). 

Seyfried is extraordinary, cutting loose and chewing scenery like nobody's business in the type of  hysterically over-the-top turn only a great actress could get away with. You're on pins and needles anxiously awaiting what will set Nina off next, especially when Andrew offers the shell-shocked Millie a shoulder to cry on. And while he's no stranger to playing brooding, charismatic good guys in recent films like It Ends With Us and Drop, Skenlar does more here when Rebecca Sonnenshine's script pivots, giving him the chance to further stretch his acting muscles, with compelling results. 

That Sweeney's biggest box office success thus far comes in a sleazy psychosexual guilty pleasure rather than the supposedly more serious roles she's been taking on would feel ironic if she wasn't so excellent, skirting the line between vulnerable naiveté and opportunism. She leaves us guessing as we both cheer and dread Millie's inevitable connection with Andrew, buckling up for what's sure to be a bumpy ride. And without giving too much away, it isn't exactly a coincidence she was hired since every detail matters, whether it's related her own history, a nosy groundskeeper or water bottles left in the guest room fridge. 

What feels like the movie's peak becomes mere prologue once its big twist arrives, and regardless of whether you saw it coming, watching what unfolds is no less of a blast. The Housemaid probably isn't intended to withstand multiple viewings, but each of these actors impress with how deftly they change course once their characters' true intentions are revealed. When the turn arrives, this doesn't become a different film so much as an insanely amped up, addictive extension of what we were already watching. And in this case, that's not a bad thing at all.                                    

Anyone But You

Director: Will Gluck
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Glen Powell, Alexandra Shipp, GaTa, Hadley Robinson, Michelle Hurd, Dermot Mulroney, Darren Barnet, Bryan Brown, Rachel Griffiths, Charlee Fraser, Joe Davidson
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

The most surprising detail about the romantic comedy Anyone But You is that it features two ascending talents who happen to have a lot of on screen chemistry. The premise isn't terrible either, especially when the focus remains on them rather than an overstuffed cast of exes, in-laws, siblings, spouses and parents. But even its likable leads can't seem to stop this from losing its way, as a promising concept becomes increasingly familiar. Director and co-writer Will Gluck does a decent enough job hiding it, but there's just no escaping the fact this mostly hinges on single piece of information we know that the main characters don't. At some point you realize this will eventually settle into the rhythms of a more traditional rom-com, despite taking a more circuitous route to get there.

What we're left with is a mixed bag that should increase everyone's appreciation of its leads, both of whom do their best to elevate the material. And while one seems more at home in this genre than the other, the mind still races at all the possibilities of them re-teaming, hopefully in a project better than this. The film's unexpected commercial success can largely be attributed to their perseverance amidst a smattering of gags from the supporting players that rarely connect. It's a strain most felt in the latter section, as multiple complications work to delay what should be a fairly simple, satisfying payoff.

While frantically attempting to obtain a key to the coffee shop restroom, Boston University law student Bea (Sydney Sweeney) meets finance broker Ben (Glen Powell) and they immediately hit it off. After spending the rest of the day together, she stays over at his apartment that night, but a misunderstanding unfolds when she abruptly leaves the next morning. They don't see each other again until months later when Bea's sister Halle (Hadley Robinson) begins dating Ben's best friend Pete's (GaTa) sister Claudia (Alexandra Shipp). 

At each other's throats over the disastrous ending of that date, Bea and Ben must temporarily put their differences aside for Halle and Claudia's destination wedding in Sydney, Australia. But tensions further escalate when their exes, Jonathan (Darren Barnett) and Margaret (Charlee Fraser) arrive, prompting Bea and Ben to hide their mutual disdain and pose as a couple. It's game on, at least until they come to the realization they may not be over each other after all.

After an awkward but promising start, a relatively straightforward narrative is hijacked by an overabundance of characters and obstacles, losing trust in its two leads to do what they mostly excel at the whole way through. In fact, you argue they actually improve together as this progresses while everything and everyone surrounding them distracts from that, undermining the film's central purpose. 

Bea is initially depicted as a total disaster, and while the setup works, it relies on goofy physical comedy that puts Sweeney in a tough spot since she fares better when playing a sly, sarcastic schemer in her scenes opposite Powell. Displaying great comedic timing and a charismatic presence that recalls a younger Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, Powell's upside is such that this role can at least be referenced down the line for launching him into future stardom. That both capably glide through some of the more problematic sections on their interplay alone is no small feat considering you need a detailed chart to track the other characters, which also include Bea's helicopter parents (Dermot Mulroney and Rachel Griffiths) and Margaret's oafish surfer boyfriend (Joe Davidson). 

Supposedly, this is loosely based on Much Ado About Nothing, albeit very loosely. We know only one thing matters, but Gluck sure does jump through hoops to delay arriving at that destination. Some jokes, like ones involving Titanic and the use of a ubiquitous pop song are cutely clever, even if others flop hard. Still, there's something to be said for him sticking the landing with one of those showy, impossibly romantic endings that lesser filmmakers always manage to botch. Anyone But You may be slightly better than its generic title suggests, but too much of what comes before is iffier, holding this back from completely besting expectations.    

Reality

Director: Tina Satter
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Marchánt Davis, Josh Hamilton, Benny Elledge, John Way
Running Time: 82 min.
Rating: TV-MA 

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The arrest of U.S. Air Force vet and NSA contractor Reality Winner (yes, her real name) on charges of releasing classified intelligence information hasn't exactly aged well. Or more accurately, public reaction and media coverage of the circumstances haven't. She committed a crime that, if gone unpunished, could have set a dangerous precedent when it comes to leaking government secrets. But regardless of your opinion on the offense, her motivations are laid bare in Tina Satter's gripping, tension-filled Reality, which hones in on how the leak somehow created more hysteria than the actual information being withheld from the American people. And it does this by simply showing what happened.

Co-written and directed by Satter from her stage play, Is This A Room, it's based on the actual interrogation transcript from the day the FBI showed up at Winner's doorstep, leaving little doubt we're getting a fairly accurate, word-for-word account, pauses and redactions included. Taking place entirely at her house, the bare bones approach gives us a chance to listen to how real people talk, as the actors fill in the blanks, defined as much by the choices they don't make as the ones they do. What results is 82 minutes of pure suspense and a Sydney Sweeney performance that at this early stage of her career already feels like a big achievement.

On June 3, 2017 Reality Winner (Sweeney) returns home from grocery shopping to find FBI agents Taylor (Marchánt Davis) and Garrick (Josh Hamilton) in her driveway. There's some small talk with a cooperative Winner before backup arrive to search the house, making sure her pets are accounted for and safe. Settling on an empty, unused bedroom to question her, the two agents begin their formal interrogation.

The agents inquire about the specifics of Winner's office job as a government contracted Farsi translator, which she hopes will lead to a deployment to Afghanistan. After revealing they're investigating her role in the leak of classified documents to a media outlet, she denies the accusations. But over the course of the hour, they break her down, eventually getting to the bottom of what she did and why. By the end of the day, Winner will be in handcuffs, eventually sentenced to five years and three months in federal prison under the Espionage Act.     

Does Winner know why these agents are there? Which parts of her story are lies? At what point will they stop playing nice? Those are the major questions Satter's film introduces, while the accused remains respectful and obliging, desperately trying to keep her cool under pressure. You can tell she's terrified, and for good reason, as these agents already know what they're after, despite how polite or accommodating they appear to be. 

Since the dialogue is set in stone, the direction and performances are everything, tasked with bringing to life this recorded transcript. None of it is too static or stagey, with Satter (in her directorial debut) hanging on every word and tiny action. Whether it's an agent's seemingly innocuous conversation with Winner about her rescue dog or a sudden movement to unlock her phone, each moment feels important in a situation this dependent on reading people. 

Satter also uses every visual and narrative device at her disposal to heighten the drama, displaying the actual transcript on screen during conversations, playing the real recording, incorporating actual photos and footage of Winner, utilizing flashbacks and even cutting to black during redacted discussions. And then after teetering on the edge of our seats watching the process itself, we get the reveal.

When cornered into confessing she leaked a document from the NSA database regarding possible Russian interference in the 2016 election, a fuller picture comes into view of who Winner really is and what she stands for. A CrossFit instructor and avid power lifter in her spare time, she feels bombarded by FOX News at work, depressingly awaiting a deployment that might never come. Toiling away in a cubicle for a department that makes little use of her extensive lingual skills. she's grown sick of government lies, determined to follow through on her pledge to protect and serve at any cost. It's a defense that holds up better morally than legally, resulting in the predicament she now finds herself.     

Sweeney plays it perfectly, never pushing too hard in either direction when reacting to the chaos that descends upon Winner. Subtly giving off all the clues she has something to hide, the agents remain a few steps ahead, setting a mouse trap they're sure she'll eventually walk into. And she does. But what's most impressive about Sweeney's performance is how much she's able to convey with preciously little, making her end of the transcript dramatically soar for an hour and a half. No matter how small, each word and expression can be read as a sign that Winner knows the vice is tightening. By the end, she's rendered helpless. 

Not to be overlooked are the turns from Davis and Hamilton as Winner's opponents in an uneven battle of wills in a dirty, vacant room. If she understandably deteriorates under the pressure, these guys are on cruise control, remaining patient and precise throughout, tactically breaking down her barriers.  Harmlessly presenting themselves in khakis and collared shirts, the two actors expertly convey those intentions, making Sweeney's work that much better as the exhaustive grilling wears on. 

By leaking that to the media, Winner wasn't covered under the Whistleblower Protection Act, practically guaranteeing a jail sentence of some sort. The one that came down was stiff, even as we're left wondering about the absence of a lawyer or why she wasn't read her Miranda rights prior to questioning. Apparently, none of that made a difference in invalidating the confession or fighting a conviction.

This is a straightforward procedural, but in the best possible way. Not knowing what to make of Winner's thoughts and actions, it puts viewers in a position similar to the agents assigned to her. They realize how much pushing needs to be done, but when one of them remarks that she doesn't seem like the type to do this, you sense he means it. Reality gets to the how and why, while also reminding us that 2017 simultaneously feels like yesterday and centuries ago. Winner couldn't have known the eventual importance of her arrest, but given everything that's happened in the country since, it's easy to believe she'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

The Voyeurs

Director: Michael Mohan
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Justice Smith, Ben Hardy, Natasha Liu Bordizzo, Katharine King, Cameo Adele, Jean Yoon
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Prime Video's aggressively unsubtle erotic thriller The Voyeurs is yet another reminder that few other films have been remade as much as Rear Window without being explicitly acknowledged as such. This latest hypersexualized twist on the premise won't be the last, incorporating elements from that and some other knock-offs through the years, many of which are inferior. A recent one, Netflix's problematic The Woman in the Window, was heavily criticized for taking itself too seriously and failing to fully embrace its absurdity, a cardinal sin when dabbling in this genre. Anyone turned off by that restraint should find much more to enjoy in writer/director Michael Mohan's far racier, adventurous escape since the last thing it'll be accused of is holding back.

There are some intriguing ideas here and even if a good amount of them seem casually discarded in favor of third act twists and shocks, it's at least craftly made and features a noteworthy lead performance. But while it may be fun to speculate what these actors could have done with more elevated material, the realization quickly sets in that's just not what this is. If a movie's trying to be a trashy modern day erotic thriller and is, does that make it a success? This isn't Hitchcock, much less Lynch or DePalma, but that's not the goal, as there's this strange pull to it's ludicrousness that makes it hard to turn away despite its obvious narrative missteps. In other words, you get what's advertised.     

Young couple Pippa (Sydney Sweeney) and Thomas (Justice Smith) are on cloud nine having just signed the lease to move into their first apartment together in Montreal. Noticing their windows give them an excellent view of the neighbors across the street, they've taken an increased interest in this mystery couple they've named "Margot" (Natasha Liu Bordizzo) and "Brent," (Ben Hardy). After seeing them having sex in the kitchen, Pippa and Thomas develop a bit of an stalkerish obsession with the pair that they know is wrong, even as they can't seem to control themselves, simultaneously repulsed and turned on by what appears to be a psychologically abusive relationship. But when they realize "Brent" uses the pad to bed models when "Margot" isn't home, things take a more serious turn with Pippa feeling obligated to expose the truth. Complicating matters is her burgeoning friendship with "Margot," leading Pippa to make a fateful decision that sends all four of their lives spiraling toward an unexpectedly tragic destination. 

Much of the opening act consists of Pippa and Thomas jokingly and nervously attempting to downplay their voyeuristic interest until letting their guard down and just proudly submitting to their curiosity. But it isn't all fun and games for long, as it's impossible to overlook the very obvious irony of us intently watching them watch this couple, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it does. After assigning the impossibly attractive neighbors names, Pippa and Thomas get a little too close for comfort, their true lives coming into full view. "Brent" is Seb, a sleazy, succcessful photographer who prefers to go shirtless while shooting his models and "Margot" is actually a seemingly directionless ex-model named Julia who seems to be stuck in his web of gaslighting deceit.

That Pippa just so happens to be an optometrist might be the most notable example of Mohan's obsessive use of ocular symbolism and motifs, executed with all the subtly of a sledgehammer. But it helps that Pippa and Thomas are actually fairly likable, proving especially beneficial in the early going as their couple chemistry and banter is required to move the story along. Similarly, Seb and Julia do emerge as something more than the constructs they start as, at least before things start unraveling later on. 

The White Lotus and Euphoria's Sydney Sweeney has already been earmarked as a major breakout and watching this it's easy to see why since her performance outright carries the film, bringing a heartbreaking realism to some really crazy material and character choices that are questionable at best. But she handles it all, exposing herself in more than just the strictly literal ways, as the admittedly silly but fun script pushes and pulls in wild directions to deliver some decent-sized thrills. Her aforementioned scenes opposite Justice Smith carry a natural vibe to that of those with Bordizzo and Hardy, who are both effective in roles that could be considered bizarro opposites of the two leads.

To its credit, the plot hinges on a big twist that's fairly surprising and insane, destined to either induce unintentional laughter or praise at its sheer audacity. Lacking the typical problem of most modern erotic thrillers that tend to be neither erotic or thrilling, The Voyeurs deserves credit for putting forth an admirable effort in both departments, throwing back to tawdry 90's entries in the genre that used to run on late night TV. It's even clear from the opening title sequence, during which Danielle Steele-stylized credits appear on screen as Angel Olsen's cover of Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" plays over the action. It's a pretty bold introduction, but also fitting for a film that walks right up to that line and practically dares you to mock it, unafraid of embracing its own campiness.