A.H. Weller in the New York Times (8/8/52):

Since she is an actress who is sturdy enough to bear the weight of an unsensational yarn, Joan Crawford should be credited with a truly professional performance in "Sudden Fear," which came to Loew's State yesterday. In this romantic suspense story, Miss Crawford, playing a rich, successful playwright, who gives her heart and hand to the wrong actor, does notably well in an exercise which involves practically all the emotions. "Sudden Fear" is a polished vehicle for her talents but its contains nothing that is strikingly surprising.

It is a vehicle which takes quite a spell to get rolling but once it does the acceleration is noticeable and often exciting. An excess of palaver stalls it as the characters of the principals are established. Thereafter, however, the proceedings become more taut as our man is revealed as a satanic gent, who spurred on by a designing girl friend, is planning to kill his play-wright-mate for her wealth. Miss Crawford, of course, accidentally discovers that her marriage and her husband are less than perfect through a conversation caught by a recording machine in her library. And, it is her efforts to avoid sudden death that constitute the meat of this offering.

A viewer not entirely a slave to Miss Crawford's brand of histrionics might argue that an excessive amount of footage is given to close-ups of the lady in the throes of mental traumas and other emotional disturbances. In general, however, she behaves in a convincing manner since, after all, she is involved with a homicidal husband. Jack Palance, as the actor she fires because he is unsuited for her play and then marries, depicts that wily schemer in a suave style. He is a slick operator but, it appears to this observer, hardly the type for whom a worldly-wise heiress-playwright would fall. Gloria Grahame adds an excellent portrayal as the hard, brash and sexy blonde who goads our villain to desperate deeds, and Bruce Bennett, Touch Connors and Virginia Huston are adequate as Miss Crawford's lawyers and secretary, respectively.

The entire production has been mounted in excellent taste and, it must be pointed out, that San Francisco, in which most of the action takes place, is an excitingly photogenic area. David Miller, the director, has taken full advantage of the city's steep streets and panoramic views. And, in his climactic scenes in a darkened apartment and a chase through its precipitous dark alleys and backyards he has managed to project an authentically doom-filled atmosphere. Aside from the moments of genuine fear, shock and mental torture suffered by the harried heroine, "Sudden Fear" is simply a cleverly turned melodrama, but one that is hardly spine-chilling.

Otis L. Guernsey, Jr., in the New York Herald Tribune (1952):

    The scenario...is designed to allow Miss Crawford a wide range of quivering reactions to vicious events, as she passes through the stage of starry-eyed love, terrible disillusionment, fear, hatred, and finally hysteria. With her wide eyes and forceful bearing, she is the woman for the job.

Doug Pratt on DVDlaser.com:

Monica Sullivan, Movie Magazine International (1996):

    "Sudden Fear" is great film noir, superbly acted by Crawford and co-star Jack Palance, who both received Academy Award nominations, and by Grahame, who won the Oscar that year for another movie. Of course, as with any Crawford flick, you have to accept certain conventions: that a rich and famous playwright wouldn't meet the love of her life until age 48, that she could actually WALK all the way from Scott/Green to Greenwich/Hyde in high heels & a mink coat after falling down a flight of stairs and THEN run up & down the hills of San Francisco with only a glamorously glowing forehead as visible evidence of her ordeal.

John Finley (February 2007)

[Warning: There's a spoiler!]

Joan’s acting was superb throughout Sudden Fear, with the exception of two scenes (that I noticed). These two scenes were a little over the top, even for Joan. The first scene was when Myra found out Lester was plotting against her. All of her eye movement and shaking hands were a little bit unreal in a sense that it was a style probably used in the Silent Era, when there was no sound to dictate what the character was feeling. The final over the top scene was the last one, in which Lester mistakes his accomplice for Myra and runs her over. I can understand Myra’s silence, but not for as long as she held it, eventually leading to her long walk back up the hill. My favorite scene was the ubiquitous scene Joan liked. This was the scene in which Myra had to hide in the closet when Lester came into the apartment unexpectedly.

Sudden Fear was put together very well, and of course Joan was well dressed throughout the entire picture, with the exception of that ugly Johnny Guitar-esque nightgown she had on in a couple of scenes. The set designers did a great job putting together everything, including the 1952 Packard Patrician 400 Myra drove around, and the 1952 Packard convertible Lester drove. Back then, those were haughtier to own than a new Cadillac. The cast was also well put together with the exception of Jack Palance. His character in the movie paralleled him in real life. Both actors were great performers, but weren’t just right for the part of Lester Blaine. Palance’s features were just a little too harsh, even for the part of Lester. However, most later Joan Crawford vehicles had B-Movie men, instead of the Gables and Hudsons of that time period. However, it was a great surprise to see Bert Pierce (from Mildred fame) in Sudden Fear.

Sudden Fear was a great movie to watch, and I’d recommend it to any "Noir” aficionado or Joan Crawford fan.

Stephanie (January 2005)

Rating: of 5

    Sudden Fear, for all of its "classic noir" reputation, can for me best be described as an homage to Joan Crawford's face. Aside from 1932's Rain and 1946's Humoresque, I can't think of another Crawford film that relies more heavily on Joan's facial expressiveness to propel the picture. Some harsh lighting here often reveals every one of her nearly-50 years, but what her face has lost in dewy youthfulness it has gained in character and its sheer ability to compel.

    In Fear, Joan plays Myra Hudson, a San Francisco heiress and playwright who rejects odd-looking actor Lester Blaine (Jack Palance) as the romantic lead in her latest play, then later, by chance, encounters him on a train and falls in love with him.

    The first half-hour of the film is rather pedestrian: Myra and Lester court, then get married, then enjoy a few screen minutes of nuptial bliss. All seems cosy...until smirking sexpot Irene (Gloria Grahame) shows up. Irene and Lester were once hot-n-heavy lovers as well as partners in petty crime back East; they quickly resume their affair and then begin to plot to get their greedy hands on Myra's money. Myra remains blissfully unaware of their trysts and eeevil plans...until she's in her study and discovers that her dictation machine was accidentally left on overnight. Myra hears a recording of Lester and Irene expressing their eagerness both for each other and for the idea of offing Myra in the next 3 days---before her proposed will changes go into effect.

    At this point the film really kicks in, both plot- and acting-wise, and from here on, the camera begins intensely lavishing its attention on every nuance of Myra's reactions to the betrayal she's discovered.

    The scene where Myra first listens to the recording and discovers Lester's perfidy is both fascinating and painful to watch because we're given no respite from the emotions that Myra's experiencing. Whole minutes go by in silence as we see Myra, often in close-up, reacting first in disbelief, then confusion, then sadness, then literal nausea, as she finally runs to the bathroom to throw up. The pure acting ability, and acting bravery, required to pull off such an uncomfortable scene is enormous, and I've never seen anything quite like it. Ever. Even in silent films, where similarly claustrophobic camera attention was necessarily paid to the actors' every expression.

    Joan's acting skills are also evident in an earlier scene, when Lester hasn't shown up for a party in his honor and Myra goes to his apartment to find him---her awkwardly smiling look of utter love and submission and fear of rejection as she climbs the stairs and says to him "Without you I have nothing" is intimately and painfully nuanced.

    Similarly interesting acting-wise is a scene between Myra and Lester after she has discovered his plot and has lain awake all night planning her inventive revenge. (She is, after all, a playwright, and wouldn't be content to merely call the police and have Lester escorted from her home!) In this scene, Myra accidentally awakens Lester; in their mutual surprise, neither intially has time to put on a "game face." Watching the two skilled actors maneuver through the duplicitous, lovingly inane "good morning" conversation is fascinating, culminating with Lester's "Aren't you going to kiss me?" Myra complies, her still-existing feelings for her husband battling with her repulsion for what she now knows about him. "I was just wondering what I'd done to deserve you, " she smiles and purrs. Then, as she turns and walks toward the camera, away from Lester's view, her smile fades oh-so-briefly into regret for what she's lost, then slowly transforms into grim disgust and equally grim determination to exact her revenge. It's a classic moment in the Crawford Canon, as well as a classic moment in film.

    Joan was nominated for her third, and final, Oscar for Sudden Fear, and it's a well-deserved acknowledgment of her acting talents. Fear has often been cited for its stylish noir qualities, and indeed there are plenty of shadows as well as much angst-ridden psychological plot tension. What makes the film ultimately so memorable, though, is not necessarily the plot (which can occasionally seem implausible) nor the camera tricks (which, especially in the fantasy sequence, can seem dated today), but rather director David Miller's utter trust in the ability of Joan Crawford's face and acting to carry the show.