#joewright

Amy Adams and Angelina Jolie both released films on major streaming platforms this weekend (Netflix and HBOMax respectively), marking one of the bigger weekends I can remember during this now nearly 18-month span of theaters finding their relevance made minimal.  Both of these women spelled box office when the big screens reigned supreme, and while Jolie’s transition into the world of streaming seems to have been a bit tenuous, Amy Adams has fully embraced it, with her name already attached to Netflix’s Hillbilly Elegy and HBOMax’s fan requested Zack Snyder’s Justice League.  While box office numbers are a bit more insider information these days, Netflix is boasting that the Fox Studios 2019 cinematic failure turned 2021 Netflix acquisition that is The Woman in the Window is trending at number one, so I figured I’d take a look for myself.

The Woman in the Window throws viewers into the deep end of the paranoia pool with almost no warning by setting up a deeply immersive premise that hides another level of grieving and suffering.  While agoraphobia is the main thing plated up, we are also served up side dishes of post-traumatic stress, dissociative disorders and more paranoia-induced stress than one can possibly process.  The film plays smartly upon viewer expectations by embracing the similarities that other films of this ilk exhibit, which helps soften the blow of the narrative resolution by setting up one or two false paths we can opt to follow (even if we have an idea who it is we need to keep an eye on).  Medication and psychosis are thrown under the bus, but such is life when it comes to films dealing with characters that break from reality.  

The Woman in the Window takes an interesting stance in regard to its connection to Rear Window… It is unclear whether the film is a loving ode or a modernized remake, but it certainly doesn’t run from the comparison, which I believe is very much to the benefit of the film.  Rather than put our protagonist in a movement restraining situation like a wheelchair, the aforementioned agoraphobia is used as the element that keeps Dr. Anna Fox in her apartment.  This works because he psychological mind finds stimulus via spying on her neighbors, while the vastness of her home keeps her protected from a world cruel enough to take everything she loves from her.  Her damaged credibility (in the eyes of those around her) makes her observations play as paranoia, which in turns makes Dr. Fox more unstable as she is unclear of who can be trusted and who is “in on it”.  All of these elements, combined with the eventual clear and present danger that will inevitably lead her out of her agoraphobia-based comfort zone, create a tension that begs for a glorious release.

While the singular main location and limited branching out was likely done due to budgetary restraints the star caliber of the cast put on the production process, the team makes the most of it, creating an extremely intense and constraining experience through the use of multi-level framing, depth of field through windows and distinct color identifiers.  The cinematography whips around like an impish trickster, utilizing the language of cinema to create visual riddles that shuffle power dynamics like a deck of cards and ping-pong trust back and forth at blinding speeds.  These aspects are further amplified by the extremely diverse but well-balanced editing that throws in such a wide array of visual looks with effortless cohesion that it’s downright impressive.  The scoring pulls from the spirit of the masters of suspenseful accompaniment, such as Bernard Herrmann or John Williams.  Color identifiers were briefly mentioned earlier, but that is only one level on which color is doing heavy-lifting… the set design, costuming and lighting all add to the color palette that is somehow bright and expressive but desaturated at the same time, which helps build up the unsettling feelings.

Amy Adams has always managed to provide strong performances while maintaining an ability to be wholly relatable, and that streak continues here, as she embraces and lives deep in the trenches of paranoia without turning it into a satire.  Fred Hechinger sets up a range to move within between innocent and sinister, then navigates by bouncing off the boundaries like a lighting bolt… sometimes it works, and sometimes it teeters on the edge of too much, but it’s always captivating.  Gary Oldman leans hard into the realms of intensity without showing too much of his hands, which balances great against the paranoia that Adams is fueled by.  Julianne Moore gives damsel in distress signals without sacrificing her pride and turning into a trope, while Jennifer Jason Leigh twists the Oldman energy into the realms of mysterious and dangerously threatening accomplice.  Wyatt Russell plays his role like a ticking time bomb at the feet of Adams’ character, seeding in nuggets that could be threats and/or red herrings.  Supporting appearances by Anthony Mackie, Brian Tyree Henry and Jeanine Serralles, plus performances by Mariah Bozeman, Liza Colón-Zayas and Tracy Letts round out the cast.