Though it passes as a nailbiter with a feel similar to that of Jonathan Mostow's Breakdown (also about innocent people terrorized by psychopathic thugs) this picture from director Larry Peerce stands out for another reason. It strikes one as both a response to, and a thinly-veiled screen evocation of, the Kitty Genovese murder of March 1964 and the "Genovese Syndrome" that it helped coin. We watch cracked hellraisers Martin Sheen and Tony Musante psychologically torture and threaten their victims, one by one, often zeroing in on the individuals' weaknesses and playing off of them (as in the case with Brock Peters's character's racial sensitivity). And not once, for over 90 minutes, do any of the passengers on the car take a serious stand by violently intervening. Their response, across the board, is basically "leave me alone, I want no part of this." As a result, the film makes a cynical and sad comment about the apathy of human beings when it comes to sacrificing their own safety for others, even members of their own families. While this is credible, we can't help but think about the real-life situations we've seen since then (such as United Flight 93) where the opposite occurred - and how the outcome of this would have differed if even a few of the victims had banded together to perpretrate an act of heroism against the marauders. Having said that, the film does achieve its central objective by holding the audience in a vice. It also benefits from remarkable, hi-con noirish cinematography that feels perfectly suited to its story, and fine performances by the entire cast (several of whom achieved celebrity in subsequent years), especially Musante as the slimebucket Joe Ferrone. To complain of the discomfort that the movie generates would be naive, as this seems to be exactly what Peerce is aiming for.