Start with a shaky premise, add some unlikely plot twists, some suspense, and a whole bunch of stupidity and what do you have? You have counterfeit Hitchcock. Well, at least the title is close, although The Bedroom Window (1987) is not anything near as interesting as, say, Hitchcock's Rear Window (1954).
I particularly did not like the far-fetched scheme that Terry and Denise came up with at the end to entrap the psycho. And Terry's insistence on that phone booth and only that phone booth from which to call the cops was silly and unnecessary. And his snatching of the police car, ditto.
Not to belabor the stupidities, but when only the defense attorney knows that Lambert wears contacts-not the prosecution, not Sylvia, apparently not himself, and certainly the audience wasn't clued in-then you've got Hitchcock rolling over in his grave as this very important bit of plot knowledge is exposed at the last moment. Director Curtis Hanson should know better. I hope he really did plant the contact lenses somewhere early on as Hitchcock would have, and I just missed them.
Worse offense though was making it appear even at the end of the movie that Terry still wasn't attracted to Denise, even though she was throwing herself at him. Shame on you, Curtis Hanson. Hitchcock would never do that. Not only don't you resolve your subplot, you offend those in your audience who identified with your heroine.
Nonetheless this is not a bad movie. Steve Guttenberg, while no James Stewart (or Cary Grant, for that matter) is agreeable as Terry Lambert, a kind of benign ladies man who seduces his boss's wife, Sylvia, played by the delicate French beauty, Isabelle Huppert. He learns that she was the wrong girl. The right girl is of course Elizabeth McGovern (Denise) although I would prefer it the other way around.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)
I particularly did not like the far-fetched scheme that Terry and Denise came up with at the end to entrap the psycho. And Terry's insistence on that phone booth and only that phone booth from which to call the cops was silly and unnecessary. And his snatching of the police car, ditto.
Not to belabor the stupidities, but when only the defense attorney knows that Lambert wears contacts-not the prosecution, not Sylvia, apparently not himself, and certainly the audience wasn't clued in-then you've got Hitchcock rolling over in his grave as this very important bit of plot knowledge is exposed at the last moment. Director Curtis Hanson should know better. I hope he really did plant the contact lenses somewhere early on as Hitchcock would have, and I just missed them.
Worse offense though was making it appear even at the end of the movie that Terry still wasn't attracted to Denise, even though she was throwing herself at him. Shame on you, Curtis Hanson. Hitchcock would never do that. Not only don't you resolve your subplot, you offend those in your audience who identified with your heroine.
Nonetheless this is not a bad movie. Steve Guttenberg, while no James Stewart (or Cary Grant, for that matter) is agreeable as Terry Lambert, a kind of benign ladies man who seduces his boss's wife, Sylvia, played by the delicate French beauty, Isabelle Huppert. He learns that she was the wrong girl. The right girl is of course Elizabeth McGovern (Denise) although I would prefer it the other way around.
(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)