Remake of Hitchcock's "Dial M For Murder" (with a worse title) has the unfaithful wife of a New York City businessman targeted for murder. Unsurprising twists in this updated version do allow Michael Douglas to play a mean SOB again (after too many years of playing the victimized good guy), but the plot feels half-baked. Much of the movie seems to take place off-screen; mostly what we get are fatuous red herrings and character contrivances. What's with all that linguistic talent Gwyneth Paltrow possesses? What's the point?... and when Gwyneth travels to the seedy side of town to try her key in a stranger's apartment, why does the editor cut away after she dramatically enters the building? What does she find inside? Why does she tell Douglas her intentions at the end, only to freeze against the door-jam when he tries to stop her? "A Perfect Murder" isn't a dumb thriller, it's fairly tight and intriguing, and the performances are commendable, but it doesn't satisfy on a hearty level (like Hitchcock). In fact, it ends with a whimper. **1/2 from ****
Review of A Perfect Murder
