lˈɔːɹəns vˈæn ɡˈɛldɚɹ ʌvðə nˈuː jˈɔːɹk tˈaɪmz sˈɛd, "ðə fˈɪlm ˈoʊz nˈoʊ lˈɪɾəl dˈɛt tʊ ˈælfɹɪd hˈɪtʃkɑːks θɹˈɪlɚ stɹˈeɪndʒɚz ˌɔn ɐ tɹˈeɪn ænd tʊ ˈɔːl ðoʊz mˈuːvɪz ɪnwˌɪtʃ hˌɑːmɪsˈaɪdəl mˈeɪnɪˌæks pˈɑːp ˌʌp ˌʌnɛkspˈɛktᵻdli, lˈoʊn wˈɪmɪn hˈɪɹ kɹˈiːkɪŋ dˈoːɹz ænd ˈɑːmɪnəs fˈʊtstɛps, θˈʌndɚstˌoːɹmz ɪɹˈʌpt æt kənvˈiːnɪənt mˈoʊmənts ænd kˈʌpəlz hˌuː ʃˈɛɹ dɪstˈɜːbɪŋ kˈɑːnfɪdənsᵻz spˈiːd ɐlˈɔŋ dˈɑːɹk, dᵻzˈɜːɾᵻd ɹˈoʊdz wˌaɪl wˈɪndʃiːld wˈaɪpɚz swˈiːp əkɹˌɑːs klˈoʊsˌʌps ʌv ðɛɹ tˈɛns fˈeɪsᵻz.
Lawrence van Gelder of The New York Times said, "The film owes no little debt to Alfred Hitchcock's thriller Strangers on a Train and to all those movies in which homicidal maniacs pop up unexpectedly, lone women hear creaking doors and ominous footsteps, thunderstorms erupt at convenient moments and couples who share disturbing confidences speed along dark, deserted roads while windshield wipers sweep across close-ups of their tense faces.