From the earliest Brian De Palma films of the decade through the release of Steven Soderbergh’s sex, lies, and videotape at its end, the ’80s were a time when viewers—many newly equipped with camcorders of their own—began to embrace voyeurism. It was hardly a new cinematic subject, but the kids who’d once giddily delighted in the perverse thrills of Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window (1954) and Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960) were now grown and making their own movies—or at least subscribing to cable TV with the expectation of exposure to similarly titillating content.
For every serious film about voyeurism and surveillance—Blow-up, The Conformist, The Conversation, Blow Out and The Lives of Others, to name a few—there are five more prurient duds like Sliver, many indeed made for cable. Through Naked Eyes (1983), starring Pam Dawber of Mork & Mindy and David Soul of Starsky & Hutch, was produced for ABC, so you can temper your tawdrier expectations: it goes about as far as bare shoulders. A quasi-erotic thriller that’s notably short on eroticism, Eyes holds your attention mostly because of Soul’s intriguingly oddball performance. It also mixes things up a little by making Dawber the more dedicated peeper.
Anne Walsh (Dawber), a planetarium tour guide and freelance journalist, lives across the courtyard from William Parrish (Soul), an accomplished flautist. A serial killer is stalking residents of their Chicago apartment complex, but they only have eyes for each other once William, his binoculars wandering after observing the media commotion outside, spies Anne training her telescope on him. A reserved and private man, he initially seems slightly rattled by the intrusion. Yet he is less alarmed than most of us would be when she reveals on their first date that she’s seen him in concert and surveils his home so intently that she knows both the color of his mouthwash and where he stores a spare bottle.
The vulgar and curiously sheltered detectives assigned to the murders don’t know what to make of the new couple’s mutual peeping, even as they conduct some surveillance of their own. Sgt. Scopetta (Gerald Castillo) refers to them as “a serious pair of freaks” and scoffs to a police psychologist (Fionnula Flanagan), “Him and a lady friend of his, they both peep. At each other.” He is flustered and insists that voyeurism is sick when she replies “Sounds like fun.” His likeminded partner, Det. Wylie (Dick Anthony Williams), begins a painfully stupid diatribe by hassling William about his binoculars: “Tell me about this peepin’ through windows. You get a rush out of that?”
“Is it a crime to look out your window?” William demands. Making the detectives’ insistence that he’s a degenerate all the more ludicrous, nothing racy occurs as he and Anne steal glances at each other. Despite its setting in a miserably humid heatwave, which plays like a nod to Body Heat, the characters remain impressively clothed, engaging in no exhibitionism and abstaining from visual flirtation. As he’s subjected to closer police scrutiny, William maintains “You got it all wrong. It’s not what you think!” But he doesn’t bother to mount a decent defense as flimsy bits of circumstantial evidence mount.
One of the greater frustrations of Jeffrey Bloom’s teleplay is its refusal to eliminate William as a suspect, even as logic dictates he couldn’t be the killer. It’s a decision that hampers the amount of suspense director John Llewellyn Moxey (of Lady Mobster and No Place to Hide) can reasonably build. Bloom, who later wrote and directed Flowers in the Attic (1987), also has the juvenile habit of deploying disabled characters to ratchet up suspense. If the scenes involving Arnold Kopek’s deaf-mute amputee weren’t questionable enough, just wait for the moment an elderly woman pushing a walker pointlessly delays the film’s climax.
Soul (also of Prime Target) ignores the schlock and burrows deeply into his character, leaving us with a thoughtful portrait of an artist who has difficulty communicating outside of his music. Dawber, soon to make Wild Horses with Kenny Rogers, is less intrepid in her equally inscrutable role, which is unfortunate because Anne’s personal life is more interesting than her dowdy wardrobe suggests. If you can overlook her blandness—and the dismal efforts of Castillo and Williams—Through Naked Eyes offers some minor pleasures beyond Soul’s sensitive turn. There are brief appearances by several Chicago theater actors, including John Mahoney and Amy Morton (making her debut), and the roguish Rod McCary steals every scene he’s in as Anne’s married lover and literary agent.
Streaming and DVD availability
Through Naked Eyes hasn’t been released on DVD, though several websites sell bootlegs. You can currently find it on YouTube.
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Cranky Lesbian is a disgruntled homosexual with too much time on her hands. Click for film reviews or to follow on Instagram.
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