The Train

Directed by John Frankenheimer, The Train follows several circa World War II individuals, including Burt Lancaster’s Paul Labiche, as they conspire to intercept a shipment of valuable french paintings stolen by the Nazis. It’s a promising premise that’s employed to predominately underwhelming effect by filmmaker Frankenheimer, as The Train, saddled with a disastrously overlong running time, suffers from an excessively deliberate pace that tends to prevent the viewer from wholeheartedly embracing the material or characters – with the heavy emphasis on exposition initially contributing heavily to the arms-length atmosphere. (And it does seem apparent that most of this setup could’ve easily been condensed.) Lancaster and his cast deliver able performances, certainly, but there’s not an actor here that’s able to develop a completely compelling figure, which certainly exacerbates The Train‘s almost total absence of momentum and engrossing sequences – although it’s clear that the movie does improve slightly in its admittedly stirring climax (eg Labiche’s confrontation with a belligerent Nazi). The end result is a true-life tale that’s curiously (and consistently) unable to make visceral impact one might’ve anticipated, which is too bad, certainly, given the inclusion of a few relatively involving set-pieces and Frankenheimer’s sporadically stirring visuals.

** out of ****