Ben Shirinian’s feature directorial debut, The Housewife, premiered last night at the Toronto International Film Festival. Led by Naomi Watts and Tye Sheridan, the psychological historical drama examines evil, accountability and the consequences of trying to bury the past.

Set in New York City in 1964 and inspired by a true story, The Housewife follows journalist Joseph Lelyveld (Tye Sheridan), whose investigation into a possible Nazi living in Queens leads him to Hermine (Naomi Watts), the suspect’s elegant and seemingly conventional wife.

What begins as a journalist’s search for the truth gradually becomes something psychologically complex. As Joseph gets closer to Hermine, the film explores the nature of evil and the many ways people attempt to excuse, conceal or distance themselves from the atrocities of war.

One of The Housewife’s most powerful elements is its use of cleaning as a recurring symbol. Hermine spends much of the movie washing her hands or meticulously cleaning her home, as though she might be able to remove more than dirt. These repeated actions are symbolic of her attempts to cleanse herself of the past and erase the evidence wherever it may exist.

An earlier scene captures this idea perfectly. Hermine notices a scratch on a table and tries repeatedly to scrub it away. When she realizes that she cannot remove it, she carefully places a book over the mark. The scratch disappears from sight, but it remains exactly where it was.

That moment becomes emblematic of the entire film. The past can be covered, hidden or pushed out of view, but it cannot be undone. Nor can the enormity of wartime atrocities be washed away simply because time has passed or those responsible have built respectable new lives elsewhere.

Director Ben Shirinian handles these difficult themes with impressive confidence. In his feature debut, he creates a film that is deeply emotional and intensely psychological, allowing the tension to build as the characters’ histories and motivations are gradually revealed. Rather than presenting evil as something distant or easily recognizable, The Housewife examines how it can exist behind an immaculate home, carefully maintained appearances and an outwardly ordinary life.

Cinematographer Michael Merriman also does a fantastic job of establishing this atmosphere. The polished domestic spaces become extensions of Hermine’s inner world: controlled and carefully arranged, yet unable to contain what lies beneath the surface. The period detail is equally effective, with Montreal convincingly transformed into 1960s New York.

The cast delivers a series of memorable performances. Watts brings control and complexity to Hermine, keeping the audience uncertain about what she knows, what she remembers and what she is trying to suppress. Sheridan is exceptional in a moving role as Joseph, a reporter determined to uncover the truth even as the investigation becomes increasingly personal. His performance captures both the persistence of a journalist and the emotional toll of confronting stories that others would prefer to leave buried.

Michael Imperioli brings thoughtfulness and compassion to his role as an immigration agent who chooses to take a stand for what is right. Luke Evans is equally powerful as Hermine’s husband, conveying the pressure created when a seemingly simple life begins to fracture under scrutiny.

Lena Olin has limited screen time, but her appearance is among the film’s most devastating moments. Her deeply emotional monologue towards the end of the film left few dry eyes in the audience and served as a reminder that, behind every investigation and historical record, there are people who continue to carry the consequences of war.

With its compelling performances, striking cinematography and layered examination of guilt and accountability, The Housewife is a powerful feature debut. Above all, it asks the difficult question: if the evidence of the past is covered carefully enough, does it ever truly disappear?

Like the scratch beneath Hermine’s book, it is always still there.

Photography by Hannah Yakobi, Darina Granik and courtesy of TIFF