She Said, She Said vol. 7
Strangers on a Train (1951, PG-13)
Dir: Alfred Hitchcock, starring Farley Granger, Ruth Roman, Robert Walker, Patricia Hitchcock, Kasey Rogers, Leo G. Carroll
contributing Writers
Liz Says:
Viewed on: Aug. 23, 2008
Viewed at: my home
Viewed with: just me
The perfect murder. The wrong man. These are common themes to all of Alfred Hitchcock’s movies, and Strangers on a Train does not stray from this formula. Watching the movie on a recent afternoon made me realize something very important: I actually had never seen this movie before! I honestly thought I had seen it in the past. Hitchcock is my favorite director (I was lucky enough to write a report on him in high school), and some of my favorite movies of all time are ones that he directed (Psycho, Dial M for Murder, Rear Window, to name but a few). While Strangers on a Train is not one of Hitchcock’s best (in my opinion), it is still a wonderfully made movie, enjoyable from start to finish, and better than about 90% of movies made today. Let’s get started, shall we?
The Strangers. Two men. A train. A lighter. These are the elements that get this film off to a great start. Right off the bat, I recognize the actor playing Guy as Farley Granger (handsome man, silly name), who is one of the main actors in another Hitchcock fave of mine: Rope. Robert Walker plays Bruno, the smooth-talking lunatic who corrals Guy into a harebrained murder scheme. I could sense Bruno’s craziness from a mile away. (Crazy is always in the eye. Remember that, kids.) Hitchcock delves right into the thrust of the plot in the opening scene: The Perfect Murder. As soon as Bruno mentions this phrase, I immediately think of the movie Dial M for Murder, where Margot’s (played by Grace Kelly) husband is trying to accomplish the exact same thing by having her murdered. Hitchcock is a genius because all of his movies deal with human nature, temptation, guilt, and passion: real human emotions. What a concept! There are no robots, special effects, or cars blowing up in Strangers on a Train. Just good ol’ fashioned human emotion. And murder, of course.
I will admit that it took me a little while to figure out Bruno’s angle and comprehend what this character was all about. If this hadn’t been a Hitchcock murder mystery, I would have assumed that he was gay and hitting on Guy (my theory is actually substantiated by other people on the Internet who believe a homoerotic tension underlies this movie). Then I realize that he is a psychopath. Straight-up. I think he caught it from his mother (who, by the way, paints the most disturbing images I’m sure an audience in 1951 had ever seen).
Bruno is an insane, 35-year-old, spoiled rich kid who lives with his parents. Then he becomes a murderer when he offs Miriam, Guy’s estranged wife. And right when Hitchcock has us thinking that this man is coldhearted, Bruno helps a blind man cross the street—right after strangling Miriam to death. I think that Hitchcock is implying that no one person is all bad or all good; we all contain elements of both within us. Hitchcock is deep, ya’ll. I absolutely love Miriam’s death scene; it is nothing short of awesome. Very iconic, beautifully angled, and original as hell.
Farley Granger (as Guy) reminds me of a cross between Jimmy Stewart and Keanu Reeves. Chew on that for a minute.
Even though the strangers referred to in the title of this film are two men, this movie is all about the women. They make this movie. I have already mentioned Miriam, Guy’s adulterous wife, who is trying to blackmail him. While taking notes during the film I jot down the words “scheming bitch” and “tramp” next to Miriam’s name (needless to say, she is one of my favorite characters). She gains all of my respect when she takes off down the Tunnel of Love with two suitors in tow. Barbara, Anne’s sister, plays a nerdy little sister with perfection. She is a know-it-all who does, in fact, know it all. Barbara has all of the best lines in the movie. And then we have Anne, Guy’s love interest (who, by the way, bears a striking resemblance to actress Sean Young. Whitney, do you agree?). What I like most about Anne is that she is actually the smartest person in the entire film. She knows Bruno is no good with one look at him. Women know. It would have been easy for Hitchcock to follow the path of many other directors and make Anne a dumb broad who is suspicious of Guy, but he doesn’t do that. Hitchcock knows women have a certain intuition about people, and this is rarely captured on screen. Also, I think directors do a disservice to society by presenting characters who are less intelligent than the average moviegoer. Hitchcock assumes his audience is smart, and I appreciate that. Because I am smart. Seriously.
Is there such a thing as “the perfect murder”? This is a question Hitchcock poses time and time again, and the answer is always a resounding NO. One thing or another always rats out the murderer, and that “thing” usually ends up being the murderer’s conscious or a tiny mistake made somewhere down the line. Hitchcock’s films are also unique because he takes what we think is about to happen and then turns it upside down, leaving us thrilled and entertained. Just when you think Strangers on a Train could not possibly get any better, he throws in an out-of-control carrousel at the end. Priceless.
I did a little research on this film after viewing it and discovered some very interesting facts. Robert Walker, who plays the psychopathic Bruno (with perfection, I might add), died eight months after filming this movie. And Farley Granger, our little Guy, is still alive today, 57 years since filming Strangers on a Train!
One last thought to sum up: I think the moral of the story is something we all learned as children, yet forget little by little as we get older: Never talk to strangers. Because one of them might become obsessed with you and murder your estranged wife in a park. Something to think about.
Whitney Says:
Viewed on: Aug. 31, 2008
Viewed at: my apartment, on my laptop (rented from Netflix)
Viewed with: Jason
Strangers on a Train marks two things for me: the death of my iPod and a serious annoyance with disc damage, malfunction, and an exchange from Netflix. But let’s put the past behind us and focus instead on something that happened a long time ago.
This movie is your run-of-the-mill “I’ll do your murder, you do mine” suspense tale. The black-and-white film will no doubt enthrall your sensors. As I always enjoy pointing out, Strangers on a Train features many-a-scene in New York City. Seeing Penn Station as it was back then is really neat.
Just a few notes first, and then my critical analysis: Ruth Roman (who plays Anne Morton) is a beautiful woman, and Farley Granger (who plays Guy Haines) … well, he’s all right. Between the two of them, I have to say, that was some damn good kissing for a ’50s movie—I actually felt that. Athletes sure have changed since the ’50s. They’ve become more “athletic,” so to speak. Other than that, did anyone else (Liz?) get the feeling that Granger might’ve been gay in real life?
Also, the way the lines are delivered in old movies like these, I always wonder, did people really talk like that back then? Or was it the way it was filmed that made the dialogue seem so mechanical? Or was it the fact that talkies were newer, and people were really into making acting theatrical, whereas now acting is all about making it seem like you’re not acting? The ’50s were more about being obvious and delivering it to our front door rather than our back door.
On a side note, Patricia Highsmith wrote the novel Strangers on a Train, on which Alfred Hitchcock’s movie is based. I’ve only read one book of hers, and it too was wrought with divorce. What’s with that, Pat?
I swear to God I saw Highsmith in the movie, behind the counter at the music store with the lead pipe, as Miriam’s co-worker. I know it’s her, but that role is not credited anywhere that I can find. My argument that it’s her is this: Why would Hitchcock focus on that character? (Meaning he did indeed pause for a couple of seconds on her, full-frame.) I’m pretty sure it’s her, and during a half-assed Google search to confirm my suspicion, I instead unearthed another juicy celluloid tidbit: Hitchcock himself is in this movie! He’s the dude getting on the train in the beginning with that huge-ass double bass. Did you see him, Liz? Apparently, making cameos in his own movies is a trademark, a trademark of which I was not aware. Also Hitchcock’s daughter, Patricia Hitchcock, played Anne’s sister—Barbara, or “Babs,” if I may.
As the suspense of the movie mounted, Jason trembled at my elbow, afraid for Anne and Guy and the uncertain outcome. I held his hand and blindly reassured him throughout the entire movie (no easy feat). It was a chore to calm and ease his mind, as I myself held fast for the inevitable climax of Strangers on a Train.
I loved the scene where Bruno strangles Sarah Palin—I mean Miriam—and that whole incident goes down in the very reflection of her ground-befallen spectacles. (Clearly, Palin looks like Miriam Joyce Haines, a character who is a backstabbing, baby-making slut. Coincidence?) At this point in the film, I worried that Miriam’s whore-lined glasses would land Guy in jail, but that fear never came to fruition. There were a lot of streamers that ended up going nowhere, but the only one that did was the carnival worker remembering and recognizing Bruno just before “The Carousel Casualty Causer of ’51.”
For me, the turning point in this movie is waaay at the end, when the mechanized merry-go-round spins directly into hell. I’ve never seen anything like that in a film, and I literally said aloud, “Holy fucking shit,” as it exploded across the fair grounds.
Hitchcock has always had a way with cross-pollinating his stories with eeriness, even though they’re already straight-up horrorish. With Strangers on a Train, I thought the story would be all laid out, and I was like, “All right, this is an old movie; people may’ve been appalled by it back then, but in this day and age, it’s going to take a little bit more to awe me.” That moment of awe actually came to me just before the credits rolled. Al Hitchwick and Tappy High spoke to and touched me when the carousel derailed like a flying saucer being manned by the town drunkard. That was Hitchcock putting his mark of darkness on the story. The movie ends up being a complete façade, leader, and trick into what the story is really about: the destruction of the carousel (the American dream out of control). Hitchcock made it a point to show Guy carefully saving a feisty little boy (who really did get a few good licks in there before probably being destroyed. Did they show him reuniting with his mom? I don’t remember.) And then everyone died! You know they did! What a devastating event that was never really resolved, and Hitchcock is twisted for ending it there. I had to sooth my boyfriend and hold his hand while he shivered against my chemise.
All the way till the end, Bruno never lets go of his plan. Even though he’s covered neck-deep in carousel and taking his last breath, I was like, “Oh my God. Is the lighter out there?!”
There’s “talk” of remaking Strangers, and I think Bill Murray would make a good Bruno.
