I’d say this is my least enjoyed of Hitchcock’s tales. While the plot remains skillfully put together, there's an element of something crude about it that I found difficult to accept. The story centers on a killer who has been viciously murdering women with neckties before disposing of their remains; law enforcement is stumped until "Brenda Blaney" (Barbara Leigh-Hunt) turns up raped and murdered in her workplace, and “Dick” (Jon Finch), her former husband, becomes the prime suspect. He runs away, gets caught, and then goes through the legal system. The audience already knows who was responsible for "Brenda’s" death, so as far as it's a whodunit, that's settled. It does offer an unusual look at the psychology of a man who can be charming and affable one minute, and brutally violent the next—a kind of dangerous split personality possibly stemming from sexual dissatisfaction, dislike of women, or experiences in his past – or perhaps all these things combined. Barry Foster is competent, though not particularly memorable, as "Rusk," and Anna Massey and pub owner Bernard Cribbins both give spirited performances. What elevates this film a bit above the ordinary is the amusing side story involving Alec McGowen ("Chief Insp. Oxford") and his wife Vivien Merchant—she seems determined to present her husband with increasingly elaborate meals when he's really craving something simple like pie and mash; and, as always with Hitchcock, there’s some clever and personal camera work. However, I felt the suspense fizzled out in a rather anticlimactic way, and while it is still easy enough to watch, it feels cheap, lacking qualities that define what makes its director exceptional. Perhaps it would have been better if it had been filmed in black and white?

Source on TMDB