Riding an Express Train to Hell: In Noir and Thrillers, Passengers Embark on Dark Journeys Aboard Shadowy Railroad Cars Hurtling Toward Uncertain Destinations

Charles McGraw, Don Haggerty, Marie Windsor, Don Beddoe,
“The Narrow Margin” (1952).

This article contains spoilers

By Paul Parcellin

Rail travel is a throwback to the days of neckties, breast pocket handkerchiefs and fedoras, so naturally it pops up often in films noir. It’s safe to say that if you’re watching a black and white film with a handcuffed criminal being shuffled aboard a pullman car, you just might be watching noir.

Trains are not only the popular mode of transportation in noir, they’re often a stage where dramatic scenes play out. They’re a location where solo travelers can meld into the crowd or escape to a sealed overnight compartment. Night trains are often dimly lit, even shadowy. It’s the kind of environment where transgressive behavior can take place undetected. People hop a train to run away from danger or the law, or to find a missing person or purloined object. They’re an escape vehicle, a sanctuary and sometimes they’re the perfect setting to perpetrate a crime.

Theft, kidnapping and murder are all possible under the murky illumination inside a railroad car as it speeds through sparsely populated territories and cityscapes. Passengers, lost in reverie, are oblivious to disturbing events unfolding around them. 

Ditto for railroad stations, which are often packed with anonymous faces, many of whom are too distracted to pay close attention to their surroundings. Train stations are a transitional area for travelers, a place that passengers would prefer to leave as soon as possible. They’re fertile ground for pickpockets, petty thieves and conmen preying on distracted, weary travelers whose thoughts are fixed on where they’re bound for as they endure the tedium of getting there. They’re a place where cigar stand cashiers mutter inside info to cops and hoods alike, and fugitives grab a tabloid from the newsstand to find out what’s what.

Rail travel echos many of film noir’s tenets, including loneliness and isolation. Trains are inherently claustrophobic, with their narrow corridors, compartments, dining cars and baggage areas. In short, they’re perfect fodder for the movies. Try to imagine how hard it would be to stage a credible chase scene aboard a plane or a bus, but a train is tailor made for it. 

Trains are more than mere staging areas for action sequences. The sense of confinement one feels mirrors the moral and emotional entrapment characters are experiencing. The train becomes a microcosm of the noir world, where people are trapped in a place that mirrors their internal conflicts.

Film noir is notorious for its dimly lit streets and alleys that create an atmosphere of uncertainty and danger. Train travel often occurs at night, emphasizing the characters’ descent into darkness and their moral ambiguity. The rhythmic clatter of the train’s wheels amplifies the tension, intensifying the noir experience. In short, the confined interiors of train cars provide an ideal spot for things to happen, the kinds of things that happen in noir.


Here a handful of films noir, crime films and thrillers in which trains play a critical role:

Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, “Double Indemnity” (1944).

“Double Indemnity” (1944)

A train can be part of a murder plot as well as a tool of deception. In “Double Indemnity,” insurance salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray), cooks up a murder plot that includes train travel and a sophisticated maneuver that makes it look like an accident. He and Phyllis Dietrichson plan to bump off her husband to collect his accident insurance payout — she and Neff have recently begun an affair and they plan to go away together with the spoils of their deadly scheme. 

With some sleight of hand Neff gets the unsuspecting hubby to sign off on a fat policy with Phyllis as the beneficiary. The corker is that if Mr. Dietrichson dies aboard a train the payout is double the face amount of the policy — double indemnity. It takes a fair amount of maneuvering and creative planning to set the wheels of deception in motion, but they do it. 

Neff strangles the husband and, dressing like Mr. Dietrichson, boards the train pretending to be the unfortunate chap. At a given location, Neff will hop off the rear car and he and Phyllis will place the body at the spot where he jumped. People will think that Dietrichson accidentally fell off, putting Phyllis in line for a big payday. 

Aboard the train, Neff makes his way to the observation platform at the rear of the last car. He steps into the open compartment, the darkness serves as a metaphoric backdrop for the morally corrupt acts he’s carrying out. But lo’ and behold, he’s not alone. Another passenger, the chatty Mr. Jackson (Porter Hall), is enjoying the night air amid the clatter of steel wheels on tracks. Neff did not anticipate this and it could be disastrous for him and Phyllis since there’s only a brief window of opportunity for him to take the leap. Neff makes up an excuse to get Jackson to leave the observation car and go fetch cigars Neff claims he left in his compartment. 

It’s a close call, but he’s is able to jump off the train at the precise point where Phyllis waits in the family car with the still warm body of her husband. Director Billy Wilder is masterful in his creation of tense moments on film, and he doubles down on the pressure once the body is planted on the tracks. 

Neff and Phyllis are about to make a clean getaway — then the car won’t start. Such are the problems of a murderous pair who seek to defraud an insurance company and get rid of a husband who’s overstayed his usefulness. 

Farley Granger, Robert Walker, “Strangers on a Train” (1951).

“Strangers on a Train” (1951)

When you board a train you never know who you might sit across from. Clean-cut tennis pro Guy Haines (Farley Granger) has the misfortune of planting himself opposite unhinged gadabout Bruno Antony (Robert Walker). Bruno recognizes Guy from seeing his picture on the sports page, and knows far too much about the tennis player’s personal life. Guy is mildly annoyed, but soon the two of them are lunching in Bruno’s compartment, although clearly Guy would prefer to lose the eccentric busybody.

Bruno rambles on about some harebrained schemes he’s been thinking about and Guy humors him. But then Bruno’s conversation turns perversely dark. He’s dreamed up a way to commit the perfect murder: two people who each want someone dead would commit each other’s murders. Guy laughs off the suggestion, although he’s got a troublesome wife who won’t give him a divorce. Bruno has a father who understandably threatens to have him committed. 

Guy never gives the wacky scheme a second thought, but Bruno is deadly serious and he mistakenly thinks that Guy is on board with him. It’s a great setup for a thriller and in Alfred Hitchcock’s hands the film is a tantalizing melange of dark humor and tense moments. 

Here, train travel is the catalyst for a chance meeting that sets the story in motion and reminds us that random events can trigger unsavory actions. The journey brings about the entwined destinies of two very different characters. As we eavesdrop on their conversation we get an inkling of the deep moral complexities that Guy will soon face. 

Bruno’s scheme requires two people with no discernible connection between them who share a common interest. Unfortunately for Bruno, Guy has no intention of being anyone’s partner in crime, but he didn’t make that sufficiently clear to Bruno. Much to Guy’s horror, Bruno goes ahead with his side of the imagined bargain and kills Guy’s wife. Guy is, of course, a suspect. 

His alibi, that he was on a train at the time of the murder, won’t hold water. He spoke with a soused college professor who happened to be sitting across from him on the train, but the now sober educator cannot remember a thing from the night before. Guy is once again an anonymous person on a train, and this is one time that he wishes someone would have recognized him.

Charles McGraw, Jacqueline White, Peter Virgo, “The Narrow Margin” (1952). 

“The Narrow Margin” (1952)

L.A. Police Det. Walter Brown (Charles McGraw) must escort a key witness for the state, Mrs. Frankie Neall (Marie Windsor), from Chicago to Los Angeles. She’s the widow of crime boss Neall and has critical information the authorities want, but the mob is determined to stop her from talking. She narrowly escapes death when a gunman pays her a home visit, but instead Brown’s partner takes a fatal bullet.  

Brown is less than thrilled to be assigned to this dangerous mission, and the lady is annoyed about the long train journey ahead. Before long she and Brown get on each other’s nerves, but that’s the least of their worries — a group of thugs who are out to kill her have boarded the train. 

Most of the movie takes place in the compartments, corridors and dining car, and it’s the perfect claustrophobic setting for this drama of paranoia and frayed nerves. Brown is the one taking it the hardest. He feels responsible for his partner’s death and the guilt weighs heavily on him. 

He’s restless, has trouble sleeping and can’t eat, but Mrs. Neall remains calm and has to be reminded to hide herself from the marauding killers. 

Her one advantage is that the bad guys don’t know what she looks like. But they know Brown, and they lie in wait until the detective tips his hand and leads them to her. The train’s narrow corridors make it almost impossible prevent Brown from crossing paths with the hitmen as they glare at each other, waiting to see who makes the first move. 

When violence finally erupts the confined space makes for intense chases and dramatic struggles over firearms. A side note: Given the danger Brown and the lady face, it’s a wonder that he doesn’t wire ahead for reinforcements and simply get off the train. But then there wouldn’t be a movie.

William Holden, Nancy Olson, “Union Station” (1950). 

“Union Station” (1950)

Train travel is part of the “Union Station” plot, but the station itself is where the action takes place. Sharp eyed passenger Joyce Willecombe (Nancy Olson) spots a couple of shady characters on her trip to Chicago. Police Lt. Bill Calhoun (William Holden) tails the pair, who turn out to be gun-toting bad guys.

He watches as they stash a suitcase in a locker at the station. The suitcase is retrieved and Joyce identifies the contents as the belongings of Lorna Murchison (Allene Roberts), the blind daughter of wealthy Henry Murchison (Herbert Heyes ), who coincidentally happens to be Joyce’s boss. Lorna has been kidnapped but Mr. Murchison doesn’t want police interference which might endanger Lorna’s life. But he does agree to let Calhoun do some low-profile investigating. 

A ransom drop off at the station is arranged, and a small army of plain clothes detectives swarm the area. The upshot is a handful of petty criminals plying their trade in the crowded station get scooped up — a suitcase thief here, a con man there — business as usual at this Midwestern crossroads. The station itself — Los Angeles’s Union Station standing in for Union Station Chicago — is like a character in the story. Long corridors, waiting area and various crannies are useful to both cops and crooks who want to blend into the background. 

More intimidating is the tunnels beneath the station where the action eventually moves. There are small service cars for workers that run on tracks and are electrically powered, kind of a mini railroad beneath the railroad. 

That makes the tunnels all the more treacherous. One false step and you might land on a live power line. It’s an awful place, especially for a blind girl scared out of her wits.

Wesley Addy, “Time Table” (1956). 

"Time Table” (1956)

The distinguished Dr. Paul Brucker (Wesley Addy) responds to an urgent call for aid. A man aboard the train on which he’s traveling is having a medical emergency. The doctor examines the patient and concludes the stricken man suffers from polio. He directs the train crew to make an unscheduled stop so that the ailing man can be transferred to a hospital. 

An ambulance meets the doctor and patient at an otherwise deserted train depot and the afflicted individual is taken away. But that’s hardly the most unusual event occurring on the train this night. 

While the medical emergency is under way, unbeknownst to the crew a lone robber breaches the train’s locked baggage compartment where a large quantity of cash is secured in a safe. This has the trademark a well-trained band of robbers with lots of insider information and a knack for misdirection. 

Although the train seems as secure as an armored car, investigators later realize that the perfectly timed scheme was planned specifically for a train running on this route. What would otherwise be a daunting mission with many drawbacks — the confined space, the well guarded baggage car — are instead advantages that the robbers exploit. 

They’re able to direct attention away from themselves and prevent passengers from catching on to what they’re up to. The train crew is also in the dark — most of them, anyway. Instead of being trapped like lab rats, the thieves get away without a hitch, making this a tough case for insurance investigator Charlie Norman (Mark Stevens) to solve. But, as we might expect, the robbers’ seemingly bullet-proof scheme begins to unravel.

Here are more films that include scenes at Union Station in Los Angeles:

“The Ladykillers" (1955), "5 Against the House" (1955), “Mildred Pierce" (1945). The Driver" (1978), "The Bigamist" (1953), "Criss Cross" (1949), "Too Late for Tears" (1949), "Cry Danger" (1951).

These films feature scenes at Grand Central Station in New York:

“North By Northwest" (1959), "Seconds" (1966), "Midnight Run" (1988), "Spellbound" (1945), "The House on Carroll Street" (1988), "Carlito’s Way" (1993), "Grand Central Murder" (1942).