Honestly, it’s not every day you hear an actor of Meryl Streep’s caliber flat-out disown a movie. But that is exactly what happened with the 1982 thriller Still of the Night. Streep has been pretty vocal about it, once telling Entertainment Weekly that she "didn’t know what she was doing" and basically felt like a prop for the lighting department. When the greatest actress of our time calls her own work a "botch," people tend to listen.
But here is the thing: is it actually that bad? Or is it just a misunderstood slice of 80s neo-noir that got caught in the shadow of giants?
Directed by Robert Benton—who had just come off the massive success of Kramer vs. Kramer—this film was supposed to be a high-brow homage to Alfred Hitchcock. It has the icy blonde, the "wrong man" scenario, and a plot centered around a grisly murder in the posh art world of Manhattan. On paper, it was a home run. In reality, it became a bit of a cinematic oddity that fans still argue about today.
The Plot: A Shrink, a Mistress, and a Very Creepy Dream
The story kicks off when George Bynum, a curator at a high-end New York auction house, is found brutally murdered. Enter Dr. Sam Rice, played by a very stoic Roy Scheider. Sam was George’s psychiatrist, which means he knows all the dirty laundry—including George’s intense affair with a mysterious, jittery woman named Brooke Reynolds (Streep).
Shortly after the murder, Brooke shows up at Sam’s office. She’s fragile, she’s smoking like a chimney, and she’s got that classic Hitchcockian "is she a victim or a killer?" vibe.
📖 Related: Big Brother 27 Morgan: What Really Happened Behind the Scenes
The movie spends a lot of time on a specific recurring dream George had, involving a green box and a creepy little girl. Sam tries to "solve" the dream like it’s a blueprint for the murder. It’s a very 1940s psychological trope that feels a bit clunky in a modern setting, but the atmosphere is undeniably thick. You've got the rainy New York streets, the shadowy corridors of the auction house, and a climax at a cliffside estate that feels like it was ripped straight out of North by Northwest.
Why It Failed (And Why That’s Interesting)
If you look at the box office, the Still of the Night movie was a certified flop. It cost about $10 million to make—a decent chunk of change in 1982—and only pulled in around $6 million.
The critics weren't much kinder. The big complaint? A total lack of chemistry.
You’d think putting Roy Scheider and Meryl Streep in a room would create sparks. Instead, it was more like two damp matches. Critics at the time, like David Ansen, noted that you "can't strike a flame with two metallic matches." Scheider is very internal, and Streep is playing a character so nervous she’s practically vibrating. It makes for an uneasy watch, which, to be fair, might have been the point.
👉 See also: The Lil Wayne Tracklist for Tha Carter 3: What Most People Get Wrong
The Hitchcock Obsession
Benton didn't just reference Hitchcock; he practically worshipped him here. You can spot nods to:
- Spellbound: The whole "psychiatrist as detective" angle.
- The Birds: A literal bird attack (though much smaller in scale).
- North by Northwest: The auction house setting and the final "peril at a height" sequence.
- Vertigo: The obsession with a mysterious blonde who might be leading the hero to his doom.
The problem is that Hitchcock’s movies usually had a wink of humor or a sense of propulsive energy. Still of the Night is very, very serious. It’s slow. It’s deliberate. For some, that’s "boring." For others, it’s "atmospheric."
The Technical Brilliance of Néstor Almendros
If there is one reason to watch this movie today, it’s the cinematography. Néstor Almendros, who also shot Kramer vs. Kramer and Days of Heaven, did something really cool here. He and Benton initially wanted to shoot in black and white. When the studio (unsurprisingly) said no, they decided to shoot in color but used a "predominantly black and white visual scheme."
The sets are filled with greys, whites, and deep blacks. The lighting uses a lot of chiaroscuro—that sharp contrast between light and shadow. It makes 1980s New York look timeless and dangerous. Even if you hate the plot, you can't deny the movie looks gorgeous.
✨ Don't miss: Songs by Tyler Childers: What Most People Get Wrong
Is It Worth a Rewatch?
Look, it’s not Sophie’s Choice. It’s not Jaws. But there’s a specific kind of "grown-up" thriller that we just don't see much of anymore. There aren't any CGI explosions or meta-jokes. It’s just two actors in a room talking about dreams and murder.
Streep might hate it, but her performance is actually quite fascinating. She’s playing a "representation" of a woman, as she put it, which gives Brooke a ghostly, ethereal quality. It’s a rare chance to see Meryl Streep struggle with a role, and honestly, even a "struggling" Meryl Streep is better than 90% of what's on Netflix right now.
Actionable Takeaways for Film Buffs
- Watch for the "Long Shot": There is a scene where Streep delivers a massive monologue about her father in a single, unedited close-up. It’s the one moment she "Meryl’s it up," and it’s arguably the best part of the film.
- Compare the Dreams: If you like psychological thrillers, compare the dream sequence in this movie to the Dali-designed dream in Hitchcock’s Spellbound.
- Check the Score: The music by John Kander (yes, of Chicago and Cabaret fame) is surprisingly romantic and moody, providing a weird contrast to the tension on screen.
If you’re a completionist for 80s thrillers or just want to see the one movie Meryl Streep wishes she could erase from history, give it a shot. Just don't expect a fast-paced slasher; this is a slow-burn mystery that lives and dies by its shadows.
To get the most out of the experience, try watching it on a rainy night with the lights dimmed. It helps bridge the gap between the movie's slow pacing and its incredible visual mood. You might just find that this "misfire" has a lot more heart—and style—than the critics gave it credit for back in '82.