I thought I'd seen all of Brian De Palma's movies, and then I noticed this one and saw his name on it. My first thought was that all the other early De Palma films are pretty much Hitchcock ripoffs that have been retitled and messed around with a little, maybe this will be something new. So then the movie starts and the first thing you hear is Psycho music. So, after the incredibly Hitchcock-esque title sequence, here comes Margot Kidder with a euroslavian accent... iffy start at best. The movie blows smoke at you for a half an hour so, including a frub scene replete with Kidder-teats and a Siamese gash close-up (get yer mind outta the gutter, it's the surgery scar from her twin-ectomy). Then Kidder's beau gets stabbed in the joystick, and as luck would have it a neighbor, a reporter (wink) sees the murder (which is highly improbable due to the fact that we see exactly what she sees, which is absolutely not what she tells the cops she saw) from her, um... rear window (De Palma must love this plot device as he steals it again in Body Double). With a paper thin plot that you'll probably have guessed at within the first five minutes, you'll more than likely not put this one on your top ten list, but it's worth a watch if you've got nothing better to do. Still, pick anything by Big Lucy (Lucio Fulci) or Dario Argento and you'll have a better time. This movie probably only deserves two stars, but I gave it three because Dr. Breton looks like a cross between R. Crumb and John Waters, and after all it is mildly entertaining.