‘The Uninvited’ (2025) Review – Ensemble Shines In Film About Industry Double Standards

Don’t let the title The Uninvited fool you. This isn’t your typical malevolent stalker hiding in the shadows type of tale. Rather than supernatural forces or sinister intruders, the true uninvited guests in writer-director Nadia Conners’ parlor drama are the uncomfortable truths we all try to shut out—aging, complicated relationships, unfulfilled dreams, and the isolating (and sometimes thankless) nature of womanhood.

While the film occasionally drags with long-winded speeches that feel perfect for the stage (what the script was originally intended for) rather than the screen, the performances and visuals will keep you invested enough to see it through till the end. What makes The Uninvited so worthwhile is how effectively it peels back the curtain on wealth, revealing how, despite the access and comfort it provides, money ultimately cannot shield anyone from life’s problems. It’s a message that feels especially timely in this era of carefully constructed social media personas, where the selves we portray never show the reality of what goes on behind closed doors.

The story takes place at a mansion in the Hollywood Hills where Rose (the ever-brilliant Elizabeth Reaser), once a celebrated stage actress, and her husband, Sammy (Walton Goggins), are throwing an upscale garden party for the evening. Rose faces the cruel irony of being deemed too old to play maternal roles, despite literally raising a child in real life. There’s a moment where she’s dissecting her reflection in the mirror (something we all do), feeling betrayed by her own body, and only seeing herself the way society has taught her to. Where she can’t see the beauty in aging, only wrinkles and flaws to be fixed. It’s painful to watch because there’s so much truth in it. 

As Rose preps for the party and cares for her son, Sammy is hell-bent on locking down a new deal between his coke-loving client Gerald (Rufus Sewell), hotshot actor and Rose’s former lover Lucien (Pedro Pascal), and ingénue Delia (Eva De Dominici). He’s itching to leave his publicity job and launch his own venture, but won’t do so unless he has what he considers to be real talent behind him. Conners gives us these glimpses of vulnerability before the first champagne flute is even filled, positioning Rose and Sammy as the outsiders in their own story. They themselves feel like the uninvited ones in their own home.

As with any meticulously planned party, not everything goes according to plan. An elderly woman named Helen (Lois Smith) appears in their driveway, insisting this is where she lives. Rose, still in her slip and oversized sweater, brings her inside, setting off a chain of revelations. Helen’s past as a former actress resurfaces in fragments, Lucian’s history as Rose’s former fling comes to light, Sammy’s desperate motivations are laid bare, and Delia confides something intensely personal to Rose. Through these three women—the ingénue, the sidelined actress, and the long-retired performer—we witness Hollywood’s treatment of women at different life stages, while the men around them reveal varying shades of self-serving behavior.

Conners has curated such a brilliant cast here. The chemistry and depth brought to these characters is what lifts the entire story. We’re left caring about these characters despite the script’s playful jabs hinting at their privileged insularity from real hardship. For instance, Goggins is the type of man who’ll sniff a line off his son’s bath toy in a desperate attempt to win a client, yet when that same client sharply crushes his dreams, we feel the sting. Goggins so expertly toys with our sympathies, making us want to write off his character one minute before revealing just enough humanity to pull us back into his corner.

Smith brings a magnetic ambiguity to Helen, playing her with an air of mischief that keeps us guessing. I found myself constantly questioning her…is she actually a ghost? Could she be the future Rose coming back to teach her younger self a lesson? Maybe she isn’t even real at all? She’s introduced as someone suffering from memory loss, but Smith gives us these brief flashes of clarity that feel almost shrewd, as if Helen might be fully aware of what’s happening and simply toying with these uptight, privileged partygoers for her own entertainment. It’s subtle, but it makes her so fun to watch.

For Rose, Helen represents both freedom from pretense and a potential glimpse into her own future. She’s a reminder of how unfair Hollywood is to women, tossing them aside when they age, while men get to keep working for decades. This is further emphasized by Rose’s interactions with Lucien. He casually mentions they’re reviving the play they were once in, with him reprising his role while Rose’s character has been recast with a younger actress. It’s a biting example of how men age into opportunity while women age out of consideration.

There are many dialogue-heavy scenes that sometimes overstay their welcome, but Conners manages to keep the film visually interesting with shots that fill the screen with an uneasiness even in seemingly calm moments. The single-location setting should feel familiar after a while, yet Robert Leitzell’s framing does a great job of disorienting us, giving viewers a peek into unexplored areas of the home. This visual strategy is so smart, mirroring the film’s core themes. Each time the camera lingers on a new doorway or corridor, we’re reminded of all the things these characters are hiding beneath the wealth and glam. The house becomes a psychological maze where Rose and Helen circle each other like reflections across time, both caught in Hollywood’s exhausting cycle of validation and rejection. 

As these characters scramble for relevance in an industry that views them as disposable, the film subtly reminds us that the boundaries between insider and outsider are far more permeable than we’d like to believe. Despite some bumpy moments, there’s a lot to like in Conners’ directorial debut. The film shows real promise, even when the script gets too preachy, and I’m eager to see what Conners will do next. 

The Uninvited is currently playing in select theaters courtesy of Foton Distribution.