Director Joe Wright’s “The Woman in the Window,” a psychological thriller starring Amy Adams, is an adaptation of Dan Mallory’s bestselling novel of the same name. In it, Adams plays Anna, an agoraphobic child psychologist who befriends a mysterious new neighbour (Julianne Moore) across the street from her New York City brownstone, only to see her own life turned upside down when the woman disappears and she suspects foul play. She believes the neighbour’s husband Alastair (Gary Oldman) is up to no good, having potentially killed his wife — shades of Hitchcock’s “Rear Window” are an obvious blueprint here.
A stellar ensemble cast brings Tracy Letts’ screenplay to the screen with a deluge of overstylized shots as our heavily medicated, and isolated, protagonist tries to navigate a self-inflicted haze of reality and fiction. Always with a glass of wine in hand, Adams navigates through the mumbo jumbo plotting like a true champ, this is, after all, an 8-time Oscar nominee. Immaculately invested in her role, you almost feel bad for the actress’ deep dive into the role, it feels like wasted energy given the convoluted plot she’s thrust in.
The problem is there are so many characters that they take away what should have been rightfully Adams’ scene-stealing show. A call to the police brings in Detective Little (Brian Tyree Henry), trying to balance Alistair disputing Anna's claim and with Anna utterly convinced he committed the crime. Even the Russell's teen son, Ethan (Fred Hechinger), enters the fray, playing mind games with Anna’s vulnerable psyche as he admits his father's guilt and penchant for physical abuse. Oh, and then there’s downstairs boarder, David (Wyatt Russell), who lives in Anna's basement, and may be hiding something nefarious himself.
Infused with Polanski-esque paranoia at every turn, Anna hears noises, sees disturbing visions and seems downright tormented in every scene. The bags under Adams’ eyes tell a world of emotions, but for Wright (“Atonement”) it’s not enough. He dredges up his mise-en-scene with metaphor after metaphor until the film’s 100 minute runtime becomes damn-near unbearable to go through.
There’s reason to believe that the artists behind “The Woman in the Window” thought they were making high art, and that, in itself, is what makes this a catastrophic misfire for the ages. Wright keeps trying to top every twist with another more ludicrous one, to the point where the film’s final half hour feels more like camp than tension. There’s reason to believe that it could eventually become a cult classic in the years to come, or the kind of unintentional hoot-filled ditty that midnight audiences could relish at the local grimy plex.
SCORE: F
That $100M budget is a steep investment for a movie without conventional A-list headliners — unless Lily James and Pierce Brosnan fit that description for you.