Life can throw curve balls as daunting and unexpected as the twists and turns in a thriller, but when filmmakers grapple with the most taxing, emotionally draining events head on, they tend to take the form of dramas. Heavy-duty prestige offerings. Serious stuff.
So what happens when directors tackle subjects as thorny as guilt, chronic fear, mental deterioration, traumatic loss and the impulse to exact revenge within the confines of genre fare? An effort to look deep into a character's psyche is weaved into the visceral trappings of an atmospheric tale of suspense, an action film with a high body count, or a horror movie with an even higher body count.
Two new releases making their way into screens big and small this month attempt to marry cheap thrills, albeit with spiffy production values, to a serious exploration of the ways trauma can wreak havoc with our mental well-being. They find that the way forward is filled with all kinds of obstacles, both external and self-imposed. Which one makes the grade, and which one takes an unfortunate tumble? Read on.
Amy Adams in a scene from "The Woman in the Window." Photo courtesy Netflix.
“The Woman in the Window”: Even if you're not a bundle of nerves like Dr. Anna Fox, there's one aspect of her anxiety disorder that you will probably relate to from the get-go. As this polished adaptation of A.J. Finn's best-selling novel opens, our protagonist has spent 10 months inside her cavernous Manhattan apartment, unable to set foot outside her front door. In the wake of our COVID-induced lockdown, there are moments here that will likely feel like nonfiction to viewers.
It's clear that Anna (Amy Adams), a child psychologist, is good as what she does. But in between sessions, this agoraphobe is a pill-popping mess. Her sole companion? A cat that looks like he belongs on a Bond villain's armchair. Her shrink, Dr. Landy (Tracy Letts), is not shy about imposing some tough love when he intuits, as we do, that she's putting up a front to conceal her inner turmoil.
Amy Adams and Julianne Moore in a scene from "The Woman in the Window." Photo courtesy Netflix.
How does she cope? An unhealthy diet of red wine, Alfred Hitchcock movies and a tendency to snoop on her neighbors. The new arrivals across the street have certainly piqued her interest. There's a rather stern looking man (a silver-haired Gary Oldman) and a nervous looking teen (“Eighth Grade's” Fred Hechinger). Gotta be his son. But where's Mom in this equation? A knock on her door later, and Anna comes face to face to a woman (Julianne Moore) who says she just moved into the neighborhood. “Ah, the family unit is complete,” Anna thinks to herself, and the shut-in finds herself lowering her defenses. She's actually enjoying the company of another person, for a change. If only the rest of the film had adopted that chill, conversational vibe.
What Anna is confronted with when she comes into contact with her new neighbors is a thoroughly dysfunctional clan. A ticking time bomb, no doubt. The boy, Ethan, triggers her maternal instinct, especially when she learns his father's mercurial temper can translate into physical violence. Out comes the camera with a big telephoto lens, and sooner than you can say “Rear Window,” Anna witnesses what she's certain is a murder unfolding before her eyes.
Jennifer Jason Leigh, Brian Tyree Henry, Amy Adams, Gary Oldman and Wyatt Russell in a scene from "The Woman in the Window." Photo courtesy Netflix.
But did she really? Anna knows alcohol and her prescription aren't supposed to mix, and she doesn't care. So what's real and what's a chemically enhanced illusion? Director Joe Wright teases viewers with some disorienting, off-kilter visuals, courtesy of cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel, that blur the line between what is actually happening and Anna's possibly unreliable version.
She begins to view several people, including David (Wyatt Russell), the tenant who rents out her basement, as potential suspects, and Wright, working from a screenplay credited to Letts, sustains that high-wire act with reasonable panache, despite the rather obvious and superficial Hitchcock call-outs.
Amy Adams in a scene from "The Woman in the Window." Photo courtesy Netflix.
But when it comes time to reveal what's behind Anna's fear of leaving her home, “The Woman in the Window” takes a nose dive from which it never recovers. The feverish imagery on display leads to choices both clumsy and misbegotten, and the over-the-top silliness only expands from there. The film's troubled production history, far more intriguing than anything onscreen, is probably to blame for the inelegant shifts in tone. Shot back in 2018, the 20th Century Studios title's commercial release was delayed multiple times before Disney, which bought the studio in 2019, sold the movie to Netflix. At some point, reshoots were ordered after test screening audiences were confused by what they saw.
It's unclear whether all that tinkering hurt the movie or made a film that was already a problem child easier to follow, but the end result is disappointing all the same: a flashy pastiche that devolves into uninspired bloodletting and a garish climax that aims for gasps but mostly elicits unintentional laughs. “The Woman in the Window” careens from glum voyeurism to Grand Guignol flourishes. In this case, less would have been so much more, and Wright, a once reliable and versatile storyteller, is unable to regain his footing, and takes his pedigreed cast down with the ship.
Nikolaj Lie Kaas, Lars Brygmann and Mads Mikkelsen in a scene from "Riders of Justice." © Rolf Konow. Photo courtesy Magnet Releasing.
“Riders of Justice”: Pity the ignorant fool who steps into Markus' crosshairs. When we first meet the Danish soldier, he's in Afghanistan, breaking the news to his wife and daughter that his leave has been delayed. As played by Mads Mikkelsen, the brawny center of this existential meditation on revenge and the grieving process is a military man of steely resolve, firmly held convictions and a gaping void where patience and tact ought to be. Markus is equipped to handle any crisis that comes his way, or so he thinks. What he doesn't know is that this is the last time he will speak with his wife, Emma (Anne Birgitte Lind), before she and her daughter Mathilde (Andrea Heick Gadeberg) board a passenger train that collides with a freight train.
Mads Mikkelsen and Andrea Heick Gadeberg in a scene from "Riders of Justice." © Rolf Konow. Photo courtesy Magnet Releasing.
Markus comes home, and he's as ill-suited at handling his daughter's despair as he is putting up with the crisis counselors eager to lend a helping hand. Soon after Emma's funeral, he receives a visit from a nerdy man who claims the train crash was no accident. The bespectacled stranger is Otto (Nikolaj Lie Kaas), a probability statistician who's just been canned from his job and was riding the train next to Markus' family at the time of the crash.
Aided by his friends and colleagues Lennart (Lars Brygmann), a skilled hacker accurately described as a Brian May look-alike, and Emmenthaler (Nicolas Bro), a facial recognition expert with more than a few extra pounds, Otto lays out his case before a skeptical Markus. He is able to link the railway tragedy to the trial of the titular biker gang and a key witness who was also on board.
Mads Mikkelsen, Nicolas Bro and Lars Brygmann in a scene from "Riders of Justice." © Kasper Tuxen. Photo courtesy Magnet Releasing.
That's all the proof Markus needs before he assumes avenging angel duties. But even though writer-director Anders Thomas Jensen doesn't skimp on the mayhem, “Riders of Justice” is a lot more than a series of skillfully staged bloodbaths. It considers the grieving characters' often conflicting emotions while developing the trio of tech geeks who come into their lives as both comic fodder and as a mutually supportive makeshift family. The way Jensen oscillates between the familiar revenge plot beats, the buddy-comedy elements and his insightful musings about the human condition make the film feel like a European variation on the work of Shane Black, the “Lethal Weapon” screenwriter whose further efforts as writer and director put clever and sardonic spins on the private eye yarn.
Of the crafty nerds, Otto is the most complex, Lennart the most nimble, and Emmenthaler the one who yields the biggest laughs. And what a treat it is to see Mikkelsen, hot off the Oscar-winning “Another Round,” once again playing something other than a villain. (Is he a good guy here? More of a good person who does some very bad things.)
Gustav Lindh, Lars Brygmann, Albert Rudbeck Lindhardt, Andrea Heick Gadeberg and Nikolaj Lie Kaas in a scene from "Riders of Justice." © Rolf Konow. Photo courtesy Magnet Releasing.
Even more impressive than Jensen's seamless genre splicing is the restraint the filmmaker exhibits throughout. “Riders of Justice” is a corker: dryly humorous yet deeply touching, entertaining yet sobering. Anders has made a man's-man popcorn movie with a big heart and a refusal to look away from its brutal carnage, or the toll it takes on those inflicting it, that's as stubborn as its main character. This reviewer knows it's a coincidence that the movie comes out just one week after “Wrath of Man,” Guy Ritchie's similarly themed shoot 'em up, but if there's a more perfectly timed rejoinder to that mean-spirited bummer, I have yet to see it. Call it the smart alternative.
“The Woman in the Window” is now streaming on Netflix. Joe Wright's next project, a musical adaptation of “Cyrano de Bergerac” starring Peter Dinklage and Haley Bennett, is set for a Christmas Eve release. “Riders of Justice” is now playing at the Tower Theater in Little Havana and O Cinema South Beach. It will be available On Demand next Friday, May 21.
