The Commuter (2018)

Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra; produced by Alex Heineman and Andrew Rona

The life of an insurance salesman and former police officer (Liam Neeson) is derailed one day when he is unexpectedly fired. At the commuter-train station, his wallet and telephone are stolen. As if this were not enough, he is approached by a mysterious woman (Vera Farmiga) who offers him $100,000 to identify someone on the train who “doesn’t belong”. Facing a double mortgage, his son’s impending college costs and unemployment, Neeson agrees but then has second thoughts. He isn’t allowed off the ride so easily, however, and he has to see this adventure to the end of the line.

Since he became an action-hero at the age of 56, in the film Taken, Neeson has starred as the unlikely protagonist in a string of such thrillers, four of them now under the same director. Some have been better than others, and The Commuter probably fits right in the middle. Undoubtedly, its plot is similar to that of Non-stop, and is terribly contrived – though, to be fair, the last two minutes suggest that the contrivance was deliberate. The villains are a bit too omniscient here, able to prevent Neeson from leaving the train or calling for effective help, and there is that moment, too often found in such movies, at which the viewer might ask, “Why didn’t the villains do that at the start?” But I am someone who finds no problem with such stories as And Then There Were None, also very contrived, but very good, even so.

The Commuter isn’t very good, and it will likely divide audiences into those who, well, not love it or hate it – it won’t engender such strong feelings as that – but who like or dislike it. The writing does generate tension. The fight scenes are exciting and, at 66 (playing six years younger) Neeson fortunately is shown receiving more punishment than he gives. But what he goes through is not impossible for a reasonably fit sixty year old. In fact, though, he generally looks suitably tired and weary, not at all dreading retirement, feelings suggested by the chronological montage with which the film opens.

The direction weaves from the effective to the pointless. There are a number of camera tricks (the old zoom-in-while-panning-out to create the effect of a tunnel was done to death in the 1980s) that seem to be straight out of film school. And the crash scene, which occurs about two thirds through the movie is created, not quite successfully, with computers. I much prefer the use of models or life-size mock-ups (remember the unbeatable train wreck in The Fugitive?). The scene in The Commuter was included probably because it was thought that people would be disappointed if it didn’t happen, or because it was in the budget. In any case, it is fortunately not the climax.

The acting is very good, as may be expected from the performers. Neeson has been called lately the new king of the B-movies. This is unfair, since a number of his recent films have been otherwise. But, discounting the money that went into The Commuter, it might qualify, as this is the sort of story, with its Heath Robinson plot and commendable performances, that would fill cinemas in the 1940s and ‘50s. Neeson is the heart of the show, with Farmiga cool and ruthless – initially rather adorable – as the instigator of proceedings. Sam Neill has a small part as a police captain, and Elizabeth McGovern, too infrequently seen in films, is the infrequently seen wife of the hero.

While The Commuter, then, may travel familiar territory, and take an unnecessarily winding route, it is worth the price of a seat for a Saturday night’s ride.

Crack in the World (1965)

Directed by Andrew Marton; produced by Bernard Glasser and Lester A Sansom

A good old-fashioned doomsday science fiction film, Crack in the World’s title tells the prospective viewer the danger to be faced. A rather timely plot, considering the world we live in now, it is about a team of researchers trying to harness the power of magma at the Earth’s core to produce clean and cheap energy for all mankind. Though their motives are undeniably noble, their methods, proposed by the leading scientist (Dana Andrews), may prove hazardous. It involves detonating a nuclear bomb against the last layer holding back the magma. That can’t be bad, right? Andrews’s young colleague (Kieron Moore) thinks it will be.

By today’s standards, when every disaster movie has to be an epic, spanning the globe and destroying all the famous landmarks on the planet, Crack in the World is modest. It is not helped by the acting, which is only mediocre - even Andrews’s skills seem to have diminished since the peak of his popularity - and the script. This features such episodes as Andrews’s wife (Janette Scott) - and object of Moore’s affections - explaining for two minutes what a doctor has told her about her husband’s health, only to have Moore ask, “What did the doctor say?” Andrews suffers from radiation poisoning, to the point where one hand is bandaged, the other gloved, his eyes covered by dark glasses and an arm is in a sling - but his condition comes as a surprise to others when it is revealed.

However, Crack in the World is more enjoyable than otherwise. The plot, while not real science, is logical within the context of the film, and though the special effects are dated, they are nonetheless fun and exciting - the destruction wrought in the climax is non-stop. There is an attempt to man-handle an atomic bomb into a live volcano - that’s right - a voyage to the bottom of the sea (not that one, another one) and a race to find out just what path catastrophe is going to take next. The production values are wisely husbanded for the finale, and then cut loose with the fire and brimstone. 

This aspect of the film is due principally, I think, to the direction, which is of a higher level than other ingredients. Andrew Marton directed mainly low-budget films previous to this one, with second unit credits on bigger projects. He seems to have done yeoman service throughout his career, competent, supporting work; the directorial equivalent to a character actor. He is an asset to Crack in the World.

So, while not first-rate, Crack in the World is an entertaining disaster movie. It takes a while to get going but succeeds when it needs to.

A Prize of Arms (1962)

Directed by Cliff Owen; produced by George Maynard

Another heist movie, this time British, and with an unusual setting. A Prize of Arms tells the tale of three men intending to rob an army station of its payroll. The plan, devised by a disgraced former officer (Stanley Baker), and executed with precision by him and his accomplices (Helmut Schimd and Tom Bell), comes up against difficulties. Baker doesn’t expect everything to run smoothly, but will his ability to improvise be enough to guarantee success?

The interest here is a combination of the plot-line and the characters. The story is a good one: the criminals are not experts, Baker is a master-mind only in that it was he who originated the scheme. The plan is a rather simple one, complicated along the way by circumstances. There are some holes in the story. Where, for instance, did the trio find the uniforms they need for the caper? How did they come up with plastic explosives and a flame-thrower, of all things? How did they learn the lay-out of the station? These are legitimate questions and lessen the effect of the story. But clearly, writer Paul Ryder wanted the movie to begin with the heist, and we are shown very little of the actual preparations. It’s like the viewer has been invited to watch the crime, the criminals figuring he’s not interested in the background. (The screenplay is from an original story by Nicholas Roeg, better known for his later directorial work.)

Indeed, the background of the characters is kept bare. We do learn some facts about Baker, the origins of his underlying bitterness, and his anger, but of Schmidt we are told little beyond that he is a Pole, and had fought with the Free Polish forces during the Second World War. Bell is even more a mystery; Baker states simply that he is “amoral”. The three’s personalities are displayed through their actions and words as the film progresses.

We do develop sympathy for the would-be felons, especially for Baker. This fine actor, little known today except among film-fans, had the hard almost cruel face and sarcastic, sneering tone of a born-villain. Yet he did portray heroes, notably Lieutenant Chard VC, in Zulu (1964), and a police detective in Hell is a City (1960). He often gave a dangerous edge to his characters. Yet, as may be seen in A Prize of Arms  a small smile could turn him into someone you would confide in, and turn to for help.

The other actors are very good, especially Bell as the impetuous, impatient youngest member of the team. Smaller roles are filled by familiar players, such as Patrick Magee as a regimental sergeant-major, and Geoffrey Palmer, a mainstay of 1970s, ‘80s and ‘90s British television, as a motorcyclist.

There is genuine tension toward the end as to whether the criminals will pull off their very clever heist, and a phrase spoken by Baker near the beginning may give a clue. But A Prize of Arms should keep you guessing until the final half-minute. And that’s a pretty good test for a heist film.

Timetable (a.k.a. Time Table) (1956)

Directed and produced by Mark Stevens

A doctor’s railway journey becomes extraordinary when he is asked to tend to a sick fellow-passenger. The would-be patient is, in fact, fraudulent, and the doctor is the protagonist of a robbery, resulting in the loss of half a million dollars. Neat, precise, well-timed, the scheme brings in the top investigator (Mark Stevens) of the company that insured the looted money, and a frequent collaborator of his, an old-time railway cop (King Calder). It turns out that this perfect crime is not quite perfect - and anything but what might be expected.

An inexpensively made film, Timetable moves from a caper to a psychological thriller at some point. This serves it well, as the story is actually about the plan behind the heist and the people involved in it. The cast is, for the most part, capable. Stevens is not an exciting or charismatic leading man, but was certainly comfortable before a camera. Calder was a veteran performer, and does a good job as a plodding but usually successful detective. Felicia Farr, the dark-eyed girlfriend of the criminal mastermind, is suitably determined and frightened, by turns. Marianne Stewart, playing Stevens’s wife, is a weak link; her performance is stilted and unconvincing. Included in small parts are some actors who would become better known, such as Jack Klugman as a luckless man caught up in the crime, John Marley as a shady night-club owner and Alan Reed, in a larger role, as a helicopter pilot. That’s him looking like Fred Flintstone, to whom Reed would give his voice, ten years later.

The script is entertaining but only after about a third of the way through, when it throws the viewer a twist. We see the crime’s investigation from both sides of the law and, though it is a good idea, it is not as forceful, or as involving, as it could be. There is a certain lack of motivation in the criminal’s actions - aside from wanting a large amount of money - though there is a clue in the first line he utters.

What is at fault in Timetable is the direction and editing. Stevens’s work behind the camera left me thinking that his timing was off; ironic, in view of the film’s title. There are several scenes which seem to begin a second or two early, as if we caught a tiny piece of the rehearsal, and a couple in which the blocking is troublesome. A scene of an argument between Stevens and Stewart comes out of nowhere and, though its volatility was probably intentional, it does nonetheless appear unprovoked, which may have had to do with the editing. As well, the scene set on a train gave me no sensation of movement on rails, and could have been placed in a small hotel.

That written, Timetable is a flawed, not unsuccessful crime drama. It is a low budget film by people who, I believe, enjoyed what they did but, for the most part, didn’t have an abundance of talent with which to do it.