A repressed housewife (an annoying lisping Angie Dickinson, whose body double treats/horrifies us with an extreme closeup of her delicates) is sexually bored by her husband and decides to branch-out. This directly results in a string of murders that soon involve a high-class prostitute (Nancy Allen, clearly I am in the wrong business if SHE can bring home $600 a night) and her psychologist (Michael Caine). If you are going to watch De Palma rip off (excuse me, "pay homage to") Hitchcock, watch "Sisters" instead of this. "Dressed to Kill," while loaded with style and technical skill, is one of the tackiest thrillers I have had the displeasure of sitting through. The plot is absurd and tired. It does feature some surprisingly effective jump scares and nasty graphic murder sequences that should please any horror fan, as long as they can get past the silly story line, that must have been dated even in 1980.