I think this is the second Sydney Sweeney film I've seen since Immaculate, and it's another one that harks back to an earlier era of filmmaking we don't see on big screens much any more.

Like that film referenced the aesthetics of The Exorcist and The Omen , this one is a domestic thriller potboiler (adapted from a popular novel, which might say something else about how likely it was to become a movie otherwise) a bit more like Fatal Attraction, Body Double or The Postman Always Rings Twice.

It's also a departure from director Paul Feig, who we know more from comedy than anything with blood or violence (disclaimer; I haven't seen either of the A Simple Favor films).

Sweeney is Millie, a young woman living in her car who's at the end of her rope and almost out of money. Her last chance is an interview to be a live-in housemaid to the Winchester family, and Nina (Amanda Seyfried) is everything Millie isn't – wealthy, poised, polished and preternaturally cheerful. Before the interview is even over, Nina is talking like she's found a new best friend, and when she gets the job, Millie thinks she's got it made.

There are a few tiny red flags. Nina's creepy daughter Cece (Indiana Elle) seems to mistrust her, the stoic gardener Enzo issues a cryptic warning to leave when everyone is out of earshot, and Millie's room – at the apex of the house in the attic space – has a window that doesn't open and a door that locks from the outside.

Other than that she's in jam – Nina gives her a credit card and budget, she lives in a beautiful house right out of a magazine, and Nina's hunky husband Andrew (Brandon Sklenar) pays her particular attention.

But the wheels fall off pretty quickly, with Nina revealing herself to be a bipolar psychopath, love-bombing Millie one minute and then screaming at her for the least imagined slight the next.

But both women have dark pasts that have led them to where they are, and secrets they don't want anyone else knowing until the time is right. Nina's secret is bigger, and when Millie is entrenched in Andrew's life (portrayed partly through some very hot love scenes) and he demands Nina leave, the plot turns as Nina reveals her hand.

The entire last quarter/third is about the reveal – what's really been going on in the Winchester house, who's really guilty and innocent and what they all intend to do about it. It's impossible to say any more without giving the whole thing away, but it all descends into blood and violence.

There are a fair few plot contrivances here and there, and (even though it's probably unavoidable thanks to the premise of the novel), it reveals the truth and then feels like it takes a bit long to wrap things up, but such melodrama actually suits both the genre and the proceedings.

Feig points a camera with enough talent to make it watchable, but aside from the Vogue Living interiors there's not much to stand out in the visuals. It could be more tightly plotted and some of the dialogue is on the obtuse side, but there are far worse ways to spend two hours than watching two of the most attractive young performers in Hollywood, one of them with her underwear being removed while in a passionate embrace.