L'inconnu du Nord-Express

Strangers on a Train boasts a neat central idea (the 'swapping' of murders), several classic Hitchcockian moments, and a fine performance from Robert Walker as psychotic socialite Bruno; but despite these admirable qualities the film fails to qualify as a complete success thanks to a severely flawed final act that makes one wonder what the hell Hitch was thinking.

Farley Granger's tennis-pro Guy Haines being coerced into discussing murder by charismatic lunatic Bruno—all well and good. The nutter carrying out his side of the plan as discussed—great stuff. Haines afraid to go to the police for fear of being implicated in a murderous pact with a clearly deranged Bruno—hey, why not? People don't always make the wisest of decisions when under pressure.

The whole ridiculous fairground finale, however, cannot be so easily brushed aside. Bruno develops telescopic arms, the police act like bumbling trigger-happy fools, and a merry-go-round achieves warp-speed before a toothless old guy confuses a self-destruct lever for the brake. It's like something out of a fever-dream—illogical, perplexing and utterly deranged—a dreadful way to end what was proving to be a very enjoyable thriller.

6.5 out of 10, rounded up to 7 for IMDb.

"Strangers on a Train" is a brilliant example of what Hitchcock could do best, continually develop his plot and characters in an atmosphere both creepy and humorous. The film has great dialogue, superb characters, good acting, and naturally superb direction from the master of suspense who is truly at his best here. Robert Walker's Bruno Anthony is a character few will forget; he is creepy, psychopathic, and as M. Night Shyamalan says on one of the DVD's special features it is the fact that he has moral standards, however unconventional and disturbed they may be, that makes him such a dangerous man.

Strangers is a truly involving film, one that takes you on a ride you won't forget anytime soon, it has one of the best examples of buildup you could find on film, and as soon as it ends the film takes you on a journey that entertains and terrifies and even makes you laugh. This is a truly brilliant example of film-making, every shot is drenched in suspense, every cut is masterful, every detail important, every second exciting, it never lets go till the very end, and what an ending that is, a delicious bit of humor that is perfectly in tone with the rest of this delightful masterpiece.

Some have criticized Farley Granger's performance as Guy Haines, but it really is quite perfect; he delivered all his lines well and makes us feel honestly sympathetic towards him. Robert Walker is simply genius as Bruno Anthony, a great character that wouldn't have been nearly as memorable without Robert Walker's devilishly evil portrayal of him. The supporting cast are good, Ruth Roman, Leo G. Carroll, Kasey Rogers, Howard St. John and Patricia Hitchcock all deliver good performances that enhance what was already a good film and make it a great film. Alfred Hitchcock's direction is, as always, sublime.

What makes "Strangers" so good is the simple plot. It isn't a complicated story, two strangers meet on a train, and one comes up with a crazy plot: "You do my murder, I do yours." One takes it as a joke and shrugs it off, but the other takes himself seriously and goes on to commit the murder he offered to, getting the 'good guy' into huge trouble. The script is adapted superbly well by Whitfield Cook from a novel by Patricia Highsmith.

This is really one of Hitchcock's most interesting films from a technical perspective while also providing more than enough laughs, suspense, and thrills to keep just about anybody engaged.

10/10

One would have expected Hitchcock's return to major studio filmmaking to err on the side of chastened caution. Surely few expected his most riotous, unrestrained film, a gleeful melange of vicious black comedy, exciting suspense, mocking manipulation, and astonishing flights of fancy. But that is precisely what they got: STRANGERS ON A TRAIN.

What is remarkable is how much Bruno's transgression disrupts the world of the film. Much has been made of the masterly crosscutting motif, but its immediate effect is to completely obstruct the straight line of progress Guy is making of his life, and hence the society he represents or is eager to join. Guy is the archetypal American, the working-class boy made good, moving in influential circles, athletic, successful, handsome. Bruno is his destructive opposite, gay, decadent, 'European' (he lives off his father, in a Big House, and just lounges about dreaming of murder). Bruno's life is one of repetition, circularity, whereas Guy moves straight ahead. It is Bruno's achievement to move Guy into his realm (represented by the merry-go-round) and force HIM to transgress (break the law, hope for murder (Bruno's)).

Bruno is quite literally fighting patriarchy. All the authority figures in the film are criticised - Bruno's father, a man whose brutality we get a glimpse of, but the true horror of which is constantly alluded to in the film (especially in Aunt Clara's paintings - that incredibly intense negative energy must come from somewhere); Anna's incredibly Machiavellian, self-serving father; the insensitive judge who thinks nothing of lunching after an execution; the tennis commentator whose smugly authorative comments are always mistaken. Far from being the mother-hater of legend, Hitch, as Robin Wood perceived, is deeply hostile to fathers and patriarchy.

Bruno's transgression turns the world topsy-turvy. This is Hitch's most surreal film. Whenever Guy is in his plot, he is filmed straight, with conventionally romantic music. But whenever Bruno intrudes, the atmosphere becomes carnivalesque, bizarre, much more fun. This is Hitch's first truly American film, revelling in the primitive detritus of Americana. Grown men puncture little boys' balloons, or try to throw them off merry-go-rounds. Distinguished professors of mathematics sing about goats on trains. Elderly society matrons are strangled at elegant soirees. Washington is filmed like a series of spare lines in a vast desert under a huge sky, like a haunting Dali painting. There is one of the greatest, and funniest, scenes in all cinema when we see a motionless, smiling Bruno in a sea of turning heads at a tennis match, an image worthy of Magritte. Just look at any scene with Bruno in it, and watch it derail into the bizarre.

Phalluses abound in the most ridiculous permutations - check all those balloons (Hitch had obviously just seen THE THIRD MAN) - as well as in more staid environs: Washington will never look the same again. STRANGERS is also, VERTIGO notwithstanding, Hitch's most overtly sexual film - as well as the phalluses, there is the sustained homoeroticism, the remarkable play with 'riding' horses; the gobsmacking fellatio joke when Hitch's daughter spills powder over the policeman.

And yet Hitch doesn't stint on good old suspense. In the very proper endeavour to show what a great artist he was, critics tend to overlook what made him famous in the first place. Much has been made of Bruno as a prototype of Norman Bates, and Hitch plays merry havoc on audience identification, willing Bruno into murder. There is a hilariously painful sequence where Bruno loses the lighter with which he intends to frame Guy down a drain. The gasps of tension and sighs of relief on the part of the audience I was a part of in support of an insane murderer is inherently funny, slightly disturbing, and highly revealing about our true reactions to conformity and success. And Hitch milks it with callous glee - listen to the mocking music and exagerrated compositions, and kick yourself for taking it all so seriously.

STRANGERS is one of Hitch's five best films, and therefore one of the greatest things in cinema. The dialogue is so strange and brilliant, I can't believe it wasn't written by Chandler. Patricia Hitchcock is a wonderful imp, standing in for her cheeky father as she taunts Guy. The fairground finale is a remarkable, dizzying fusion of exciting, tense set-piece, black comedy and symbolic site. If Bruno's final words condemn him to hell (according to the Catholic precepts Hitch is supposed to embody: compare with a similar ending in THE KILLERS), we applaud his integrity, infinitely preferable to Guy's debased serving of self.

This is a little known Hitchcock movie but I think it is one of his best. I like how he inserts humor into this crime drama. For example the small boy pointing a gun at the Bruno character at the carnival and the Bruno character popping his balloon with a lit cigarette. And there is the comic scene at the tennis courts where the audience in unison moves there heads back and forth following the ball except for Bruno who glances straight away at the tennis player.

Hitchcock plays suspense masterfully as in the tunnel of love sequence early in the film. We know that Bruno plans to murder the woman and we 'see' that is why he is following her into the tunnel. We hear a scream and think the deed is done when voila! the girl comes sailing out with her two admirers. Then there is one of the finest scenes in all movie history: the final scene on the carousel. Hitchcock manages suspense on many non-stop levels: the two protagonists fighting each other, a small boy who nearly falls from the ride as it whirls at tremendous speed, and the elderly man who crawls beneath the carousel to try and get at the brakes. Although I think the end of the scene was a bit over the top it was masterful to that point and I will never forget it.

I was surprised to see Ruth Roman in the lead. Usually Hitchcock has blondes for his leads, but the commentator on the TMC channel told us Hitch had to use her because she was under contract to the studio where he filmed it.

I highly recommend this obscure Hitchcock masterpiece and give 9.99 out of 10.

When it comes to Cinema's hall of fame of screen villains Robert Walker's Bruno Anthony has to rank up there with the best of them. Outwardly harmless, he possesses the twisted psyche of a spoiled mummy's boy who is all too willing to resort to murder to get his own way (sounds a little like Norman Bates, doesn't it?).

Walker graces the role with sly hints of effeminacy that hint at his character's sexual orientation, something that in 1951 would have contributed to the overall impression of louche decadence. And what a loathsome creature he truly is, almost toadying towards tennis player Guy Haines as he ingratiates his way into the hapless athlete's life only to turn it upside down with his diabolical 'criss-cross' plan. To be fair, Haines is a tailor-made victim, and the passive indecision of his character is perhaps the film's biggest flaw. As others have no doubt noted, Haines would only need have gone to the police to sort everything out because Bruno's suave mask is clearly as fragile as an eggshell, and even a novice interrogator would quickly determine that something's not right about him.

As murder plots go, it's not a bad idea – apart from the unlikelihood of two like-minded strangers meeting, discussing and then agreeing to such a plot in the first place. Bruno takes the vaguest of affirmations – distractedly delivered by Haines to shake him off – as confirmation that his plan is a goer and promptly murders Haine's estranged wife in a justifiably famous fairground murder scene.

The psychological subtext is laid on pretty thick for an early fifties film, making it a piece of work that rewards repeated viewings. Walker's character grows increasingly menacing as the film progresses, not through any changes of attitude or manner on his part, but because of what the audience learns about him as the story unfolds. For the most part, however, his role in the film is simply as a villainous foil for the clear-cut Haines, which is a shame as it would have been interesting to see just how Bruno became as twisted as he was. Nevertheless, Strangers on a Train deserves the classic status it enjoys, and is worth a couple of hours of anybody's time.