Train (Criss-)Crossing

I've been slowly working my way through the Alfred Hitchcock canon -- just periodically, not methodically. This recently brought me to Strangers on a Train, the famous story that has inspired numerous subsequent murder stories. Two strangers meet on a train (I know, shocking from the title!), and converse about the people they wish were out of their lives. One carries through with the over-the-top notion to each murder the other's victim, and drama ensues.

There's a lot about the movie that works. The acting is rather good for it's time. Farley Granger (also seen in Rope) stars as a tennis player with a conniving wife that won't grant a divorce. Granger plays just the perfect notes of spinelessness that make the whole plot possible. You believe he'd be nice enough not to reject the crazy man approaching him on the train at the start of the film. You believe he'd be panicked enough not to go to the police early while he has the chance. You believe he's too soft to envision a way out of his position. Truly skillful work. And Robert Walker, as the other part of the equation, is a very capable psychopath. He's just the right amount of unhinged, just the right amount of refined.

The visual style of the film is superb. The film is in black and white, and makes excellent use of the format. Harsh lights and deep blacks are carefully used to drive the duality of the characters and the story. There's extensive use of rear-screen projection that, while not good enough to fool the eye today, certainly opens up the film enormously in scope. And then there's the thrilling visual climax, a fight on an out of control carousel. The breaking down of the carousel is a truly spectacular visual effect for 1951, and must have truly gripped and terrified the audiences of the time.

The writing, however, lets the film down too frequently. The movie is asking you to believe a lot -- that a man would be so unstable that after a chance meeting on a train, he'd feel compelled to commit murder. The 10 minutes at the top of the film just aren't deft enough to make this idea credible, and actor Robert Walker must step in to bridge the gap.

He does so, as I noted earlier, presenting a truly creepy character that almost convinces you the story could happen. Except that the script then saddles the character with pangs of guilt in the second act. It's impossible to believe that the man who would commit the act at all, the man with the calm composure displayed throughout the first hour, would start to come unraveled later on.

And then there's that climax I mentioned on the carousel. Though it may have made for a dazzling visual, the situation is simply preposterous. It's set up by a police officer firing into a crowd of innocent bystanders, and illustrating exactly why this would never actually happen -- he hits one, the ride operator, who slumps over on the carousel controls. You are then asked to believe that carousels actually have a "fly itself apart" speed that dutiful ride operators are keeping them from achieving. There's just no moment of the finale that is in any way believable.

There are plenty of people to make an audience that could see past these flaws. Film historians could appreciate what was accomplished for the time. People who prize strong visuals in a movie would find much to love here. But story is pretty key for me, and in that area, I felt the film had too much weight dragging it down to receive a high mark. I rate it a C overall.