The Woman in the Window – A Review

The Woman in the Window is a pretty faithful adaptation of the book of the same name by A. J. Finn. It was originally scheduled for release in 2019 but due to poor testing and new owners (Disney’s acquisition of Fox), it was delayed for re-editing. It was further delayed because a theatrical release in May of 2020 was not going to happen. Netflix eventually required distribution rights and that’s where you can now find it. It’s a movie whose long post-production process shows in that it has mixed tones that never fully come together. Ending up on a streaming service during a pandemic that’s still lingering, is the best thing that could’ve happened for this movie.

The production design is the stand-out element of the film, evoking Rear Window while still firmly setting itself in the present. The movie, much like the book, draws a lot of influence from Rear Window and other classic cinema. Unlike some movies that mask their influences, The Woman in the Window makes them clear. In addition to the production design, during the establishing sequence, there’s a freezeframe image from the climax of Rear Window. Anna (played by Amy Adams) is also obsessed with classic cinema and is always watching, and passing out to various black and white movies. They should’ve left the homages there but they also included some classic movie transitions (blood on the lens, superimposed images on black screens, etc.) but not enough to establish them as to how Anna sees the world so instead of adding to the movie, they only serve in breaking any flow the movie is getting into.

Amy Adams does a good job at playing the dichotomy of a person who is great at interacting with others (we see this in her ability to engage with Julianne Moore’s “Jane Russell” and Fred Hechinger’s Ethan Russell) but finds herself alone, and thus falling apart, due to her inability to go outside. This is relatable, and part of the reason this film works better as a home release than a cinematic one, as many of us have, or still are, living through stay-at-home orders. Watching it in a cinema, especially a crowded one, and that impact would be lost.

However, it’s because her performance is strong some of the weaker story threads become more apparent. One of the big ones is why she has David (played by Wyatt Russell) as a tenant. She was clearly ordered to have a tenant by her therapist but, as previously mentioned, she is a people person and from the start of the movie David is shown to be disinterested in engaging with her. There seems no reason for her to pick him other than plot-wise for the story so she can get suspicious of him later when she uncovers things about his past. New York has plenty of people looking for apartments, she could’ve found someone to live there that would’ve even wanted to watch classic movies with her occasionally. But then, who would be looking out windows?

I loved the shot where they made her look small as she was giving all her evidence that doesn’t add up, where even she concedes she’s not a reliable narrator. All leading up to the big reveal, of her base trauma, the reason why she doesn’t go out. Unfortunately, they didn’t stick the landing. The reveal is couched by having the one character she had the least connection to in the whole movie deliver it.

It does get really strong after the reveal when Anna accepts that she didn’t see “Jane Russell” (Julianne Moore) get killed and that she never existed. It stays strong right until she and the killer are engaged in the final confrontation and there’s a weird moment with a garden tool. The whole physical confrontation was very camp in a 90s slasher movie way, not in a Hitchcockian way. This marked the biggest tonal disconnect.

In the end, Anna does leave her house, which will hopefully bring comfort to viewers still in areas deeply affected by the pandemic.

Available on Netflix.

Score: C-