Night Train to Venice

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

everybody likes to watch bad movies from time to time, simply because they're so bad it's funny. well, this is not one of those movies. no matter how well developed your sense of irony might be, this movie is so insultingly bad that I doubt anybody could derive any pleasure from watching it.

one of the biggest complaints my friends and I had was that it feels like it was written by 3 separate people on 3 different continents, without any knowledge of what the others were doing. for some reason, hugh grant takes a train to venice (imagine that!) and on the trip he meets this woman and has gibberish conversations with her. malcolm mcdowell comes around and says some needlessly cryptic things and a guy gets tossed off the train. then there's the nazis who aren't so much characters as really bad caricatures played by people with no talent.

oh yeah...there's a naked man in a cage at one point, as well as some american nazis holding a rally and beating guys up in the street, though they're in Europe...

once hugh gets to venice, all hell breaks loose...well, not really. the movie just doesn't make any sense from this point on. it's like a bad fever dream. i won't even try to explain because there's no point.

granted, a movie doesn't have to be linear or have a coherent plot to be a good movie...look at david lynch. however, this is not a david lynch film. it's just bad. there is no story, plot, coherence, there are no real characters, and really no point. i'm angry that i watched this and now hate everybody associated with its production.

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.

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).

This film was in one of those boxed sets, together with two other films I had never heard of (and Kickboxer staring Van Damme).

When I watch a movie, I don't have any expectations, so am rarely disappointed. When I was watching this one, I was disappointed.

Hugh Grant plays a writer living in Munich, who travels on the Orient Express to take his book manuscript (on the subject of Neo-Nazis) to a publisher in Venice. Unknown to him, a bunch of German skinheads (with authentic American accents) sneak onto the train.

While the above excitement is going on, a parallel story of a beautiful woman with a young daughter, and a white haired stranger hovering around in the background (played by Malcolm McDowell, doing his best to look extremely intense).

I didn't know what to make of this film. From the cinematography I had assumed that this film was shot in the late 80s (actually 1993 - one year prior to Hugh Grants success in Four Weddings and a Funeral). The plot was non-sensical, the direction was non-existent, and at the end of it I had no idea where the time had gone, or what I had just seen.