Brutal story of Depression-era hobo A-Number 1 (Lee Marvin) trying to hitch a ride on the #19 train run by sadistic conductor Shack (Ernest Borgnine in bug-eyed mode), while showing the ropes to young up 'n comer Cigaret (Keith Carradine, who does the same thing better in the following year's Thieves Like Us). If you know Aldrich, then you know to expect violence (it's the kind of movie where people throw hammers at each other) but even I was a little shocked. Movie opens with a bum hitching a ride on Shack's train, and while enjoying a tasty sandwich, Shack clubs him over the head, sending him between the cars where he's ripped in fucking half. Then later, he uses a technique -- I'd rather not spoil it -- to dislodge riders from underneath the railways cars that's both ingenious and monstrous. The FX and train sequences here are really impressive -- I'm not sure how they did a lot of the shots, but it always feels like the characters -- and at times, the actors! -- are in danger. (Yet, there are few stunts of men falling off the train at great speeds that are so over-the-top they took me straight out of the movie.) As Ebert notes, there's the germ of a great action movie here, something simple and savage, about two men, one representing the powerful, wealthy class and one of the oppressed poor, using their wits and learned cruelty to get the best of each other. (I almost want to start page one of the remake right now.) But it all seems to fall apart. The pacing is all fitful starts and stops, and while the off-train scenes are full of great period detail, all they do is make me wonder when they're gonna get back on. The problem is that Aldrich never expands these characters past their types and starting relationships -- it's the triumvirate of the old pro vs. the young kid vs. the evil bad guy, straight down the line, from here to Portland, OR. By the end, there's a cheesy mano-a-mano on the top of the trains (which I'd hoped the movie was smart enough to avoid), but there's no weight there, just types going through the ritualistic motions. A missed opportunity.
Where we saw it: tv | We deign to rate it: 52 outta 100