Santa left us a present this holiday season and it is exactly what we didn’t know we needed: A twisty, psychological horror-thriller with nudity that’s all wrapped up in an empowerment message.

“The Housemaid” is Paul Feig’s delicious, satirical look at the secret depravity of the ultra-rich, but it’s so well constructed that’s it’s not clear who’s naughty or nice. Halfway through, the movie zigs and everything you expected zags.

It’s almost impossible to thread the line between self-winking campy — “That’s a lot of bacon. Are you trying to kill us?” — and carving someone’s stomach with a broken piece of fine china, yet Feig and screenwriter Rebecca Sonnenshine do.

Sydney Sweeney stars as a down-on-her luck Millie Calloway, a gal with a troubled past living out of her car who answers an ad for a live-in housekeeper in a tony suburb of New York City. Her resume is fraudulent, as are her references.

Somehow, the madam of the mansion, Nina Winchester played with frosty excellence by Amanda Seyfried in pearls and creamy knits, takes a shine to this young soul. “I have a really good feeling about this, Millie,” she says in that perky, slightly crazed clipped way that Seyfried always slays with. “This is going to be fun, Millie.”

Maybe not for Millie, but definitely for us. The young housekeeper gets her own room in the attic — weird that it closes with a deadbolt from the outside, but no matter — and we’re off. Mille gets a smartphone with the family’s credit card preloaded and a key for that deadbolt. “What kind of monsters are we?” asks Nina. Indeed.

The next day, the house is a mess when the housekeeper comes down and Seyfried is in a wide-eyed, crashing-plates, full-on psychotic rage. The sweet, supportive woman we met the day before is gone. But her hunky husband (Brandon Sklenar) is helpful and apologetic. And smoldering. Uh-oh. Did we mention he’s hunky?

If at first we understand that the housekeeper is being a little manipulative — lying to get the job, for instance, or wearing glasses to seem more serious — we soon realize that all kinds of gaslighting games are being played behind these gates, and they’re much more impactful.

Based on Freida McFadden’s novel, “The Housemaid” rides waves of manipulation and then turns the tables on what we think we’ve just seen, looking at male-female power structures and how privilege can trap people without it.

The film is as good looking as the actors, with nifty touches like having the main house spare, well-lit and bright, while the husband’s private screening room in the basement is done in a hellish red. There are little jokes throughout, like the husband and the housemaid bonding over old episodes of “Family Feud,” with the name saying it all.

Feig and his team also have fun with horror movie conventions, like having a silent, foreboding groundskeeper, adding a creepy dollhouse and placing lightning and thunder during a pivotal scene. They surround the mansion with fussy, aristocratic PTA moms who have tea parties and say things like “You know what yoga means to me.”

Feig’s fascinating combination of gore, torture and hot sex ends happily, capped off with Taylor Swift’s perfectly conjured “I Did Something Bad” playing over the end credits. Not at all: This naughty movie is definitely on the nice list.

“The Housemaid,” a Lionsgate release that’s in theaters Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for strong bloody violence, gore, language, sexuality/nudity and drug use. Running time: 131 minutes. Three and a half stars out of four.

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When playing in a legendary South Bay punk band is your day job, most people likely wouldn’t have too many musical side projects. But most people aren’t Pennywise bassist Randy Bradbury.

Having frequently kept the door open for different bands and genres of music, Bradbury’s newest project is the Huntington Beach-based 84 Days. The trio features the veteran songwriter on guitar and lead vocals, Grammy-winning rock producer Cameron Webb on bass and No Doubt’s Adrian Young on drums (at least for the self-titled debut album) — and while 84 Days’ sound and tempo differs significantly from Pennywise, it’s still very much a punk-leaning rock band.

When asked about the name, Bradbury says, “The term ’84 Days’ originally started as an inside joke back when I was a teenager, but watching the world change so much it seems to be a fitting description for how things have become … like something I read in a book once. And now we’re in it.”

Though it may seem odd to launch a new band after more than a collective century of experience in the music industry, Bradbury and Webb agree that 84 Days “sounded like too much fun” to not pursue. And if their debut show at DiPiazza’s in Long Beach back in November was anything to go off of, it’ll be a good time for fans too.

“I think the Randy Bradbury name is bigger than you would think,” Webb says via Zoom. “People obviously relate him to Pennywise, but he’s an individual that a lot of people like — especially other musicians. Everyone knows him and thinks he’s great, so people have just been really supportive of everything.”

“I was just waiting to see what the reaction to the songs would be,” Bradbury adds. “I’d say it’s been very positive so far, so I think we’ll have Green Day opening for us in about a year.”

Jokes about the new band’s popularity aside, Bradbury and Webb’s years in the industry have given 84 Days the kind of platform and connections most bands can only dream of. Case in point, when Young was unable to continue with his drumming duties for the band’s first live shows, Bradbury was able to recruit his friend Erik “Smelly” Sandin from NOFX to fill in for the time being.

“We’ve both been in the Southern California music scene for decades, so I know a lot of people and made a lot of friends,” Bradbury says. “I’ve kept note of who are the players I look up to and would love to play with; as soon as I found out Adrian wasn’t going to play with us, I knew I was going to ask [Sandin].”

“We’re friends with these people because I work with them or Randy tours with them, so we cross paths all the time in the studio or at shows,” Webb says. “Everyone’s been really supportive of me, who doesn’t do it every day. No one’s like ‘You shouldn’t be doing that.’ They’re like, ‘I can’t wait to see this’ or ‘You’re going to kill it.’ So it does make me feel good to see the community be excited for us to play a show.”

But as Bradbury is quick to point out, all of those connections are “contingent on if you’re doing something interesting” and if the music itself is actually good. Thankfully, between Bradbury’s elite writing chops and Webb’s tastemaking ability (as usually seen behind the scenes on other bands’ albums), 84 Days’ self-titled debut isn’t just a fun punk jaunt but a deep look into how the songwriter views the current state of society and the world — including topics that wouldn’t exactly fit ahead of “Bro Hymn” in a Pennywise setlist.

Even though 84 Days may have been founded around the idea of being a “fun” project for its members, none of them is interested in sticking with it if the band itself is less than stellar. While Bradbury is used to performing for a living, the looming threat of live shows encouraged Webb to genuinely practice and tighten his bass skills, having primarily only picked one up previously to help in the studio from time to time.

“I grab instruments a lot, but now I had to learn all these songs and rehearse them,” Webb says. “I’ve got to know my s— and play them as well as the pros that do it every single day. I want us to be a killer band, so we’re going to be a killer band. That just means it’s time to stop goofing around. Instead of going home and watching TV, I’m practicing. I’m learning parts. I’m working on riffs. I’m doing all of that. It’s super fun because Randy makes it a great experience. We’re having a good time doing it and everything’s real positive, so we’re going to keep doing it.”

Just a few shows and one album into their career, it’s too early to tell what the ceiling is for 84 Days. The duo could see it continuing to just play bars and small venues or growing into something much larger. In fact, Bradbury laughs at the idea of some of the bands he knows opening for them — as long as it’s not his new band upstaging Pennywise.

“I think that that tour would end with a lot of bruises on my body and a lot of smashed guitars and basses.”

I’m convinced that each SpongeBob movie released on the big screen serves as a testament to the current state of the series. The 2004 film was a send-off for the early series run. Sponge Out of Water symbolized the Paul Tibbitt era, and Sponge on the Run served as a major transitional period between soft reboot and spin-off setup. The team responsible for Search for SquarePants, which consists of current showrunners Marc Ceccarelli and Vince Waller, as well as the seasoned Kaz, is showcasing their comedic and absurdist abilities. The sole purpose of the film is to elicit laughter with its distinctively silly and irreverent, whimsical humor. More so than its predecessor, it creates a mindless romp. Granted, there are far too many butt-related jokes, to a weird degree.

Truthfully, I am apprehensive about the insistence of each SpongeBob movie being CG-animated. However, Drymon, who directed the final Hotel Transylvania film, Transformania, brings the series’ quirky, outrageous 2D-influenced poses and expressive style into a 3D space. Its CG execution, done by Texas-based Reel FX (Book of Life, Rumble, Scoob), is far superior to Mikros Animation’s Sponge on the Run, which, despite its polish, has experimental frame rate issues with the comic timing and is influenced by The Spider-Verse. FX encapsulates the same fast, frenetic pace in its absurdist humor, which enables a significant number of the jokes to be effective and feel like classic SpongeBob.

With lovely touches like gorgeous 2D artwork in flashback scenes and mosaic backgrounds during multiple action shots, Drymon and co expand the cinematic scope, enhancing its theatrical space. Taking on a darker, if not more obscene, tone in the main underworld setting, the film’s purple- and green-infused visual palette adds a unique shine that sets it apart from other Sponge-features. Its strong visual aesthetic preserves the SpongeBob identity while capturing the spirit of swashbuckling and satisfying a Pirates of the Caribbean void in the heart.

The film’s slapstick energy is evident throughout, as it’s purposefully played as a romp. The animators’ hilarious antics, which make the most of each set piece to a comical degree, feel like the ideal old-fashioned love letter to the new adults who grew up with SpongeBob and are now introducing it to their kids. This is a perfect bridge. There’s a “Twelfth Street Rag” needle drop in a standout montage sequence that will have older viewers astral projecting with joy. 

Search for SquarePants retreads water but with a charming swashbuckling freshness.