Night Train to Venice

I think my life can be divided in two parts, before watching "A Night Train To Venice" and after. I used to be an indecisive and hesitant man, a weak-willed and irresolute person. Then came the two hours that changed it all. I was pushed to my limit, tested the boundaries of my spiritual and even physical powers, the very capacity of human strength! And I made it, I actually managed to see THE WHOLE freaking thing, from start to finish, from first to last carriage. And surprisingly I lived. Now I am the most confident, positive tenacious and tough man... in the local madhouse. The things movies can do for you...!

P.S. Anyway, if you're preparing your dissertation on the refraction of artificial light through the windows of a night train, you may actually find the movie quite useful.

This is in my top five worst movies of all time. This film caused me to ask myself many questions, the main one being, why would anyone invest time and money in producing such a stupid film. Bizarrely, it featured some fairly reputable actors. I can only guess they were on crack at the time.

I could discern no coherent plot and have no idea why a girl jumps out of the window at the end. Even more bizarrely, after she jumps out of the window and Hugh manages to catch her (quite miraculously) everybody smiles and the triumphant music begins. Wasn't anyone worried about why a young girl should want to jump out of a window??? In case you watched the beginning and switched it off, as I regret not having done, and you are wondering, who was the Malcolm Macdowell character? No explanation is ever given. He pops up every now and then with an intriguing expression on his face.

The only redeeming feature of this film is that you can have a laugh at the clever techniques used to prolong the film making it up to an astonishing 1 hour and twenty minutes. For example: - lots of pointless slow motion shots with gay music -Hugh and the woman make love at least four times and he kisses her breasts on every occasion. (what kind of mother has sex with a stranger in a train while her daughter is asleep presumably in the same carriage)? - Shots of Macdowell's face every few minutes This film is so bad you should probably watch it

What a mess. I bought the laserdisc of this years ago, an impulse purchase, because of Hugh Grant. Up to that point I had enjoyed everything I'd seen him in. After suffering through watching the film, all I could think was that the writer(s) and director must have been doing vastly different types of drugs resulting in an incomprehensible train wreck (pun intended) of a film. Neither Grant's charm nor McDowell's depth and style can save this one. The re-titling of the film to "Train to Hell" is probably the best thing the distributors have done. At least they're being honest that this is a train ride to hell in a handbasket. I haven't bothered to watch the film since (just can't bring myself to torture myself that way again).

Movies that parallel reality with a surreal, dream-like existence run the risk of alienating any audience not completely in tune with the director's vision; in this case, that alienation turns to unintended comedy when journalist Hugh Grant boards the Orient Express from Munich to Venice, where neo-Nazis have sneaked aboard and threaten to cause chaos. Also on-board this train trip to Hell is Tahnee Welch as a recently-widowed stage actress, her little girl and caretaker, plus an internationally known dancer, some drag queens, and Malcolm McDowell as a tough-talking "Stranger". From what I could decipher, it appears Grant blames the presence of the Nazis on himself (he apparently wrote an unflattering piece about Skinheads), but once the train pulls into Venice (in time for Carnival!) all that business aboard the Express seems to have been forgotten. It would be impossible to credit director Carlo U. Quinterio for his 'unique' vision; the filmmaker blatantly copies the criss-crossing style of Nicolas Roeg's thriller "Don't Look Now" (also set in Venice), creating an indecipherable scenario wherein the editor was allowed to go berserk with the flash-forwards and flashbacks. The movie is so cluttered up with murky minutiae that it allows the straight-faced proceedings some camp value (how else to describe the cobbling together of Nazi atrocities and S&M imagery with sex scenes involving Grant nibbling on Welch's breasts--shown again under the closing credits!). Low-budget mess resembles those Golan-Globus pictures from the 1980s, and poor Grant seems at a complete loss for words. NO STARS from ****

And I don't think I am exaggerating. Everything is terribly wrong in this picture: from the absolute lack of story (from minute 20 there is nothing to understand) to the amateur performances or cinematography. A complete failure.