The Bedroom Window is a 1987 thriller written and directed by Curtis Hanson based on Anne Holden’s novel The Witnesses. Steve Guttenberg stars as Terry Lambert, an architect who becomes involved with his boss’s wife Sylvia (Isabelle Huppert.) During their first night together, Sylvia witnesses an attempted abduction in the street downstairs Lambert’s apartment but is unwilling to go to the police. When the abduction attempt is linked to another spoil, Lambert attempts to do the right thing by “fronting” Sylvia’s spectator account to steal hooker the killer. Not able to identify the culprit in a lineup, he begins his own exploration aided by the young woman (Elizabeth McGovern) whose attempted abduction Sylvia witnessed. Further murders follow as Lambert himself becomes a prime think it likely.

The Bedroom Window is meant to be a crime drama in the Hitchcockian mold&#8212it approximates some of the master’s qualities but not in the least achieves the same levels of force or dramaturgy. Hanson’s direction is visually stylish, using a near-monochrome palette with spots of bright color in his skillfully backlit nighttime scenes, and he achieves a sharp, legible neo-film noir look using modern color film assortment, no method achievement. The polytechnic production is upright, with open set designs that contrast nicely with the film’s often-claustrophobic, paranoid mute, and the cast’s performances are uniformly good.

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But the arrange has problems&#8212Lambert seems hopelessly naïve (or stupid) and makes unpleasant decisions from one end to the other, Sylvia’s personality changes to suit the needs of the area, and the complete biography seems contrived, largely driven by coincidence and chance. It’s hard to allow in seventh heaven-go-lucky Steve Guttenberg as a man who would lead astray another man’s helpmate, let alone a possible killer, and the real killer (Brad Greenquist) never develops into a sincerely spine-chilling presence&#8212he’s a hurriedly drawn “bogeyman” whose early and regular correspond with with the protagonists robs him of whatever screen power he might have had. The film is also in have need of of some tightening&#8212it takes several side trips that accord little immature information, and the pacing doesn’t pick up until the last twenty minutes. There are a few moments of real play in this end sequence, and the naturalistic manuscript doesn’t succumb completely to its by-the-numbers plot, but the “shocking twists” are anything but and the conclusion seems a big on the dot coming. The Bedroom Window is interesting as a below to director Hanson’s L.A. Classified, and it’s sick than the innumerable Andrew Stevens/Shannon Tweed entries in the same genre, but the whole beeswax is on the blunted side.