Novak's gestures, glances, and inflections expand passing moments to symphonic proportions, and MacMurray's studied neutrality exudes existential weariness.

Viewed strictly on its own, as it should be, this modest Columbia melodrama is a creditable job for about half the time.

Marked by a visual claustrophobia that nicely matches MacMurray's increasingly hemmed-in situation.

It's the sort of thing that has often been done before, but usually with less competence than in this hard-boiled little suspense yarn.