No Way to Treat a Lady is a 1968 American psychological thriller film with elements of black comedy, directed by Jack Smight, and starring Rod Steiger, Lee Remick, George Segal, Eileen Heckart, Murray Hamilton, and Michael Dunn.

Adapted by John Gay from William Goldman's 1964 novel of the same name, it follows a serial killer in New York City who impersonates various characters in order to gain the trust of women before murdering them.

A Broadway theatre owner and director, he adopts various disguises in order to put his victims at ease and avoid identification, impersonating characters such as an Irish priest, a German plumber, a flamboyant gay hairdresser, a policeman, and a transvestite.

Upon gaining his victims' trust, Gill strangles them to death before painting a pair of lips on their foreheads with garish red lipstick.

Brummell's new love interest is Kate Palmer, who glimpsed Gill shortly before he committed the first murder, though not well enough to identify him in a way that would aid the investigation.

After reading a subsequent false newspaper story claiming that a suspect has been arrested for the sixth murder, Gill calls Brummel again and expresses his relief.

Brummel goes to inspect the costume room, and on his way back, as he is passing the theatre stage, Gill attacks him with the backstage rigging.

[3] In October 1966, it was announced that Sol C. Siegel had signed a three-picture deal with Paramount Pictures, of which the first was to be an adaptation of No Way to Treat a Lady.

"[11] Eileen Heckart filmed her scenes during the day while appearing at night in You Know I Can't Hear You When the Water's Running.

[2] Wanda Hale of the New York Daily News praised the film for Steiger's "tour-de-force performance" and its blending of humor and the macabre.

"[17] Vincent Canby of The New York Times wrote of the film: "Beneath all the outrageous make-up, hairpieces, disguises and belly laughs in No Way to Treat a Lady, there is a curious and ironic comment about the land of stifling mother love...

There is nothing wrong with this sort of sheer sensation for its own sake as long as the gags and Steiger's masquerades maintain their bold effrontery.