Imaged sourced IMDB — *Image source: IMDb*

When I first saw The Woman in the Window appear on Netflix this year, I was highly anticipating watching a new psychological thriller and taking a break from true crime. Based on the 2018 novel by A.J. Finn, the movie had an original release date for 2019; however, director Joe Wright had some of the script rewritten and scenes reshot after test audiences reported that the film was “too confusing.” Alas, like most things scheduled for 2020 that had been canceled or postponed in the wake of COVID-19, in this film’s case, the 2021 release seemed a bit more appropriate, in that viewers could better relate to the main character.

In the film adaptation, Dr. Anna Fox, played by Amy Adams, is a child psychologist who suffers from acute agoraphobia inside her large brownstone home in Harlem. Although never having been diagnosed as agoraphobic myself, I thought the plot worked for a time when all of us were forcibly stuck inside our homes, and in many cases, also afraid to leave in fear we’d contract the virus or worse: pass it off to someone else. Although the circumstances differ, the audience can empathize, a correlation that definitely reeled me in more quickly.

Some spoilers ahead.

In spending her days at home, Anna picked up a habit of spying on her neighbors and other people. Although not threatening, it is a habit her own psychologist would like to see come to an end, and for Anna to challenge herself more to go outside. Even her husband—who is not present in the film, as he and her daughter live elsewhere, and, in her terms, are “separated”—is constantly asking her and encouraging her to leave her house. However, despite his concerns regarding Anna’s behavior and her progress, Anna’s doctor agrees to adjust her medication, under the impression that her drinking has ceased. Meanwhile, with new prescriptions approved, Anna throws back on her daily house clothes and allows her version of self-medicating to begin: a mixture of red wine, pills, and old movies, such as Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window and other black-and-white thrillers.

As foreshadowed in the opening credits, when monsters seem to be coming out of a neighboring house replica/dollhouse, and again in the murder that Jimmy Stewart witnesses in Rear Window, the audience is preparing for an elemental shift. After a series of introductions with new neighbor Ethan (Fred Hechinger), the Russell family’s teenage son, and later with who is presumed to be his mother, Jane (Julianne Moore), Anna watches what she believes to be a murder involving the father Alistair (Gray Oldman) as the killer. Throughout this buildup to the climax, the cinematography undergoes a pivot from mundane reality to the thriller our protagonist believes she’s living in, forcing the viewer to question the reality of the ongoing dialogue. Although a little exacerbated, the relationships Anna has, or attempts to have, with the outside world are a balance of fear and desire. She longs for a friend, or to have relationships with people, but as a constant watcher of the outside world and someone who undergoes a Halloween egging, is untrusting and terrified, only further shutting herself in, while still reaching for connections in a somewhat awkward, quick-paced and longing way.

While usually attached to her cell phone at all times, when the murder occurs, Anna is unable to find it, inducing a race against time to call authorities on Alistair and report that her new friend has been killed. While I believe this constant spinning has us somewhat convinced that the murder actually happened, as a viewer, by default, we are still questioning Anna’s psychological health and if in fact, she’s witnessed a murder or has mixed too many of her prescriptions with red wine. As psychological thrillers go, in the following scenes, detectives and the Russells show up at Anna’s home to go over what had actually happened. Only, even more confusing for the viewer and for Anna is that Jane Russell, or who is introducing herself as Jane Russell (Jennifer Jason Leigh), is not the same woman she bonded with previously. In a turn of events, what is instead brought to light is that Anna is not just a “pill-popping drug addict” but also a “crazy cat lady” whose family is actually dead. Yes, the voices she’s conversed with over the phone are just figments of her imagination and a reality she cannot accept—and why she’s never again stepped outside.

While I enjoyed the plot twist, I feel like this movie’s succumbing end could have been so much better. Up until the final act of the movie, I was hooked on the idea that maybe Anna had been imagining all these things, but also wanted to believe her. In any portrayal of mental illness or drug-induced self-medicating, it's important to keep the audience just as lost as our main character, and I felt Wright carried that out successfully. I loved the transitions of scene to scene in what only could have been tied together once Anna was reminded of her family’s death.

Although, like a puzzle or any mystery, in putting together the pieces of this film to the very end, I thought, as a viewer, we were coming to some greater conclusion. Instead, I was left feeling that some of my pieces were missing, and that the picture I was meant to create at the end was not that of what was shown on the box. Overall, it felt as though each relationship Anna tried to have or had in the past, was hollowed out by fear or even guilt. Whether it be by the tragedy her family underwent or the simple conversations she accepted as genuine friendships or helping someone in need, they just seemed inconsistent and not enough to tie it all together in the end. Going back to the postponement of its release, I think this, too, was a strong point and could have created a more successful conclusion. Throughout COVID-19 and even post-COVID, many are struggling with relationships—from the ones they had before to even attempting to create new ones, there is some kind of social barrier, or maybe even physical barriers still.

Like Anna, stuck in her home by choice, she distrusts the outside world, just as some of us might. However, the conflict in Anna’s story is a bit more self-induced and through a character we haven’t really been able to trust. I believe for the ending to have made sense or been a little more successful, the viewer should have been shown more solid standing points, something that we can ground ourselves on the perceptions and clues Anna ends up putting together. While it's great that the ending creates a new beginning for Anna, it certainly wasn’t through an outcome I was ever expecting. Though filled with well-crafted cinematography and a literal balance of light and dark, blacks and whites, this film unfortunately missed the mark for me, ending too quickly and in such a direction that deserved a little more backbone.