It would be more effective if Anna wasn’t such a ludicrous character, a jumble of ruses in a housedress. Between this film and her role as a resentment harpy in Hillbilly Elegy, Adams has had a particularly bad run of luck, and the problem here is that she tries to play Anna straight when she should be campy — passing out next to an artful arrangement of pill and wine bottles, peeping on everyone with a telephoto camera while never managing to take photos when it would matter most, and tearing up the script. The Woman in the Window wasn’t made by Netflix; it was sold off by 20th Century Fox, which had previously produced it. IMDB
Despite this, the film’s major finale is still the best part, as it gleefully goes off the rails, abandoning characterization in favor of malevolent monologues and operatic aggression. It’s almost like a dream sequence in and of itself, the delusion of a lonely, unraveling individual who, as Anna admits at one point, “just really wanted to be at the core of something.” The Woman in the Window is about a brittle, bored gentrifier who wants to call 311 on a barking dog, who considers reporting the neighbors she barely knows to Child Protective Services, and who barges into her tenant’s spa.