Christy by Request — Body Double

“Body Double” is Brian De Palma’s Alfred Hitchcock movie, with clearly affectionate references to “Rear Window,” “Vertigo” and other classics scattered liberally about. But it’s also every bit a De Palma film in the vein of the director’s “Carrie,” “Dressed to Kill” and “Scarface,” with all of its fascinating contradictions. It’s an expertly crafted B-movie, a brisk and twisty mixture of the slick and sleazy, the glossy and grungy.

De Palma and co-writer Robert J. Avrech have concocted an old-fashioned Hollywood tale of an alluring femme fatale in need of rescuing and the well-intentioned schlub who finds himself further mired in peril the more he tries to do just that. And yet the 1984 movie is also extremely of its time and place, with its big hair and black lacquer furniture and its many recognizable Los Angeles landmarks (the Farmers Market, the Capitol Records building, the Tail o’ the Pup hot dog stand). Hell, a full-length music video for Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s “Relax” — one of the most emblematic hits of the decade — busts out in the middle of the film out of nowhere. It doesn’t get more ’80s than that.

Aficionado of this era of excess as I am, though, I’d somehow never seen “Body Double,” so I was happy to have it pop up randomly as the latest Christy by Request title, the suggestion of a Twitter follower who goes by @indolentrecords. But I was familiar enough with De Palma’s film to know that my 8-year-old kid definitely would not be watching it with me. Sorry, little dude. Some day.

“Body Double” is essentially a lurid version of Hitchcock’s “Rear Window,” starring Craig Wasson as an average actor who believes he witnesses the murder of a beautiful woman through a telescope across a canyon in the Hollywood Hills. But there’s also a central element of mistaken identity and doppelgangers, a la “Vertigo,” and instead of a fear of heights, our hero suffers from paralyzing claustrophobia.

De Palma puts us on edge from the start, opening on the set of a low-budget horror film (where “NYPD Blue” star Dennis Franz is the demanding director) and repeatedly revealing in the first few minutes that what we’re seeing isn’t real — it’s all a calculated illusion intended to trick us. After a rough day of shooting, Wasson’s Jake goes home to find his girlfriend in bed with another man, so he moves out and drowns his sorrows at Barney’s Beanery bar and grill in West Hollywood, a longtime local institution. (I actually had dinner with my husband and son there the night before I watched “Body Double.”)

A friend and fellow actor, the swaggering, trash-talking Sam (Gregg Henry), just happens to have somewhere for him to stay: at the little place where he’s been house-sitting. It’s another L.A. landmark: John Lautner’s spectacular, octagonal Chemosphere house, which looks like a flying saucer propped up on stilts, sticking out of the hillside. The shimmery, silver carpet and round, rotating bed complete the bachelor-pad vibe.

But there’s another perk to this place. It comes with a view of the gorgeous brunette across the way (Deborah Shelton), who just happens to dance around in a slinky negligee and pleasure herself every night at the same time with the vertical blinds open. “Like clockwork,” Sam tells Jake. It’s entirely too convenient. Well-meaning idiot that Jake is, though, he can’t help himself. He gets sucked into her world, which includes following her all over town because he’s seen just enough to believe she’s in danger.

The threat escalates further when he tracks her to beach hotel, where a menacing bad guy also is on her tail. De Palma plays with perspective here, with tiered, oceanfront balconies overlooking the Pacific providing a variety of views. At a key moment in the chase, when Jake’s claustrophobia kicks in, off-kilter camera angles indicate his inner confusion and panic. Later, his first kiss with this woman is set against the backdrop of an intentionally obvious green screen, with the camera whirling around them. It’s another bit of homage to Hitchcock, as is De Palma’s propensity for close-ups of bulging eyeballs during the intense moment when a bloody murder finally does occur.

We’re right along with Jake every step of the way as he tries to put together the pieces of this mystery — wandering in confusion, mired in obsession and always arriving a minute too late. Still, Jake is clever enough to use his background as an actor to insinuate himself into the world of pornography when that’s where the twisted path leads him. He’s still a pawn, but he’s getting closer to the truth.

Which brings us to Melanie Griffith in the role that truly launched her career. We don’t see her until well past the halfway mark of the film, and when we do, it’s mesmerizing. (Apparently, Jonathan Demme was inspired to cast her in “Something Wild” after watching her performance here.) Griffith plays a platinum blonde porn star who goes by the name Holly Body; Jake senses something familiar about her and is driven to track her down. The scene in which she explains to him what she will and will not do on camera is a perfect encapsulation of Griffith’s charm. She’s girlishly angelic but also startlingly no-nonsense. She’s a much smarter cookie than she gets credit for being and her comic timing is slyly perfect. And the casting of Griffith is a nice touch, given that her mom, Tippi Hedren, became an icon as a classically icy Hitchcockian blonde in “The Birds.”

What’s real, what’s imagined and what’s movie magic remain mysteries until the end. But the winding road through the hills to get there is always a wind-in-your-hair thrill.