- Whatever else it may have accomplished, The Woman in the Window certainly convinced me of the value of writing reviews. If I weren't taking notes, it is exceedingly unlikely that I would be able to distinguish this film from the following year's Scarlet Street, which is actually a much better piece of work. Both are directed by Fritz Lang and star Edward G. Robinson as a meek, bookish type interested in art and lured to his doom by Joan Bennett's femme fatale. As if that isn't similarity enough, Dan Duryea plays the role of the rakish cad in both films, and each has a completely absurd ending. After writing this review, I intend to investigate whether the two films were actually made at the same time and simply released a year apart.
- Regardless, The Woman in the Window is a merely decent film noir helped considerably by its talented director and solid cast. As I've commented before, Robinson was a surprisingly versatile actor who excelled at creating sympathetic characters, even when those characters engaged in despicable acts. In this case, he's an academic named Wanley who intends to spend the evening reading at a gentlemen's club but quickly finds himself in the company of a mysterious woman (Bennett) whose alluring portrait adorns the neighboring art gallery. You know, between this and Laura, 1944 must have been the banner year for falling in love with paintings. Anyway, if the Professor is interested in seeing some more sketches, he could always come up to her place and have a few drinks, etc. Too bad her former lover (Arthur Loft) has to trample in and get himself murdered.
- But as Wanley's opening lecture informs us, "The biblical injunction 'Thou shalt not kill' is one that requires qualification in view of our broader knowledge of impulses behind homicide." That must be what's running through the Professor's mind when he clumsily hides the body, at least. Unfortunately, Wanley's friendship with the Assistant D.A. (Raymond Massey) won't be enough to save him if he keeps giving himself away. I suppose that's the difference between academic and real-world knowledge when it comes to murder. Add in the threat of a chiseler named Heidt (Duryea), and it looks like Wanley's completely up the creek. That is, unless all of those mirror images Lang has been employing are telling us something deeper about what's really going on.
- At the risk of revealing the film's silly conclusion, I'll simply note that it turns out there's no place like the gentlemen's club. There's also no place like a Lang film noir where improbably lovely women latch on to unassuming, unattractive, middle-aged men and drag them into a life of depravity and crime. I suppose it's tough to decide whether this pairing or that of Barbara Stanwyck and Paul Douglas in Clash by Night was the more mismatched. At any rate, this femme fatale isn't nearly as complicit as Bennett's character was in Scarlet Street, nor is the fate of Robinson's character as tragic, but the best way to tell the films apart is by their endings. Both plenty goofy, but Scarlet Street's feels insane and daring, while this one just feels about five years old.
- Based on a novel by J.H. Wallis.
