Dressed to Kill film review

Angie Dickenson isn’t the one that’s dressed to kill – she’s dressed to get killed. When she gets butchered by a razor-wielding mystery woman in an elevator, it’s up to a cop (Dennis Franz) and her shrink (Michael Caine) to figure out who offed the nymphomaniacal Angie. Oh, and Angie’s son teams up with the hooker who witnessed the murder to do an investigation of their own.

Brian De Palma wants to channel Hitchcock, but putting your female characters naked in a shower isn’t much of an homage on it’s own. This is, of course, predominantly cheese. It-s not without its charms (Nancy Allen’s high-class ho is lots of fun), but not without its tiring moments. Still, it will keep your interest, at least – if nothing else, it’ll remind you that 1980 was really an extension of the overblown 1970s.

Review by Christopher Null © 2002 filmcritic.com

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