The Stranger in My Home Movie Review – Sophia Bush and Chris Carmack Overperform in This Messy Psychological Thriller

The psychological thriller genre peaked in the ’90s, because even when the films weren’t great, they were still memorable. Jeff Fisher’s The Stranger in My Home feels like it belongs to that era. It’s messy, unbelievable, and all over the place – but it’s one heck of a time. It’s like the Marlena Evans possession story arc in Days of Our Lives, where everyone scoffed at in public but adored it in private.

Based on the best-selling Adele Parks novel of the same name, The Stranger in My Home sees married couple Ali (Sophia Bush) and Jeff Mitchell’s (Chris Johnson) life turned upside down when Tom Truby (Chris Carmack) arrives on their doorstep and claims to be their teenage daughter Katie’s (Amiah Miller) real father. According to Tom, there was a mix-up at the hospital on the day in which Katie was born, so his daughter Liv (Grace Aiello Antczak) is actually Ali and Jeff’s daughter, while Katie is his. As both families come to terms with the news, Tom gets closer to Ali, while a mysterious stranger appears to be lurking in the background.

Chris Sivertson’s script doesn’t believe in subtlety here. Every character has their own secrets, keeping important information from each other and creating an air of distrust. At the same time, they aren’t the brightest people either, as the ease in which they can be divided and duped is hilarious. Imagine someone arrives on your doorstep and says they’re your child’s real parent. Sure, a DNA test is the first step, but after that, you would likely want to do your own research about who these people are. Nope, not in this movie. After a DNA test confirms Tom’s claims to be true, Ali, Jeff, and Katie go with the flow, never once questioning his story or motives. Who does that?

This isn’t the first Parks novel that Fisher has adapted, as he also tackled 2024’s The Image of You. The director certainly has his signature visual language and flair, bringing an old-school aesthetic to the composition and framing of the shots. However, he repeats many of the same mistakes from the previous film, as he telegraphs the best parts of the movie and tends to info dump on the audience. As it stands, the story teeters on the edge of implausible, while the characters are next-level gullible, so this requires Fisher to apply some restraint to the approaching twists on the horizon. Instead, Fisher prefers to bash the audience over the head with the obvious rather than trust them to get to the conclusion on their own.

Where The Stranger in My Home triumphs over The Image of You, though, is in the performances. Both Bush and Carmack revel in the nonstop drama. Despite the entire story threatening to unravel if someone pulls on a loose thread, Bush and Carmack sell it in every scene. They make the whole ordeal believable, even when it isn’t. Carmack puts in a savage shift, holding the right balance of campy and sinister, to create a creepy character in the same mold as Mark Wahlberg’s David McCall from Fear – he’s so good at being bad that you secretly love the times he’s on screen.

Bush and Carmack seem to feed off each other’s performances, too, as The Stranger in My Home escalates in energy and runs wild the longer it progresses. By the time the third act arrives, the film is firmly off the rails and halfway to Mars, but it’s impossible to look away. It’s a joyride that’s bumpy, erratic, and amusing to the point in which you can’t believe how much you’re absorbed by the nonsensical and over-the-top drama.

The Stranger in My Home isn’t about to find its way into anyone’s top 10 movies of the year – in fact, it’s not even a particularly good movie. That said, no one can deny its schlocky entertainment value. Don’t question it too much, though; just go with the flow here.

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