There's no doubt about Morgan Fairchild's (neé Patsy McClenny) porcelain beauty, especially when she's all glamorized up, as she is here. That lustrous blond hair with nary a strand out of place, That surgically perfect nose, those over-sized blue doll's eyes with those alluring black lashes. (She wears them even while swimming otherwise nude.) Her acting is adequate for a community playhouse, but her voice is that of a high school girl -- and not even a senior, but a freshman.
She's one of those TV news babes and a real dish, with the figure to go with her features. It's no wonder that her neighbor, Andrew Stevens, takes photos of her naked with his telephoto lens or falls in love with her from afar before he begins to make a real nuisance of himself. Having a fan who is obsessed with you is a real problem. I know, because beautiful women throw themselves at my feet all the time, begging me to mistreat them.
As is usual in these stalker movies, the cops are of no help at all, the stalker is clever and murderous, the boy friend is either away at the wrong time or disabled somehow. Occasionally, as here, he is stabbed to death just about the time he reaches ejaculatory inevitability.
Then the movie falls completely apart. With her boy friend's bloody body pulled from the jacuzzi and buried by the maniac, Fairchild calls the murderer instead of the homicide squad and tells him, "It's just you and me now." It's a horn of plenty of clichés, with hands reaching from out of the frame to grab the heroine by the shoulder, accompanied by a loud sting on the sound track.
There's no need to go on about the film but it does have a few good points. It opens with Morgan Fairchild swimming naked in her pool, while we listen to a romantic ballad under the credits ("Love's Hiding Place"). Another scene, rather artistic I thought, has her undress and slide into a bath tub full of lather, while Stevens gawks at her from a closet. The linkage between the murderer in the closet and the theme, "Love's Hiding Place", is so subtle that the insensitive among us are liable to miss it. There must be other virtues. I'll think of them sooner or later.
She's one of those TV news babes and a real dish, with the figure to go with her features. It's no wonder that her neighbor, Andrew Stevens, takes photos of her naked with his telephoto lens or falls in love with her from afar before he begins to make a real nuisance of himself. Having a fan who is obsessed with you is a real problem. I know, because beautiful women throw themselves at my feet all the time, begging me to mistreat them.
As is usual in these stalker movies, the cops are of no help at all, the stalker is clever and murderous, the boy friend is either away at the wrong time or disabled somehow. Occasionally, as here, he is stabbed to death just about the time he reaches ejaculatory inevitability.
Then the movie falls completely apart. With her boy friend's bloody body pulled from the jacuzzi and buried by the maniac, Fairchild calls the murderer instead of the homicide squad and tells him, "It's just you and me now." It's a horn of plenty of clichés, with hands reaching from out of the frame to grab the heroine by the shoulder, accompanied by a loud sting on the sound track.
There's no need to go on about the film but it does have a few good points. It opens with Morgan Fairchild swimming naked in her pool, while we listen to a romantic ballad under the credits ("Love's Hiding Place"). Another scene, rather artistic I thought, has her undress and slide into a bath tub full of lather, while Stevens gawks at her from a closet. The linkage between the murderer in the closet and the theme, "Love's Hiding Place", is so subtle that the insensitive among us are liable to miss it. There must be other virtues. I'll think of them sooner or later.