Although for years the celebration moved around the calendar a bit more than in the past and was therefore somewhat difficult to track down (no pun intended), today -- we are full of joy to announce -- once again is that most grand fest, National Train Day. At least it is here at Elisberg Industries, and that's good enough as a starting point. You won't find it on any calendars for any number of reasons, but the most important is that since Amtrak funding got cut back they stopped promoting it after 2016. (And the reason for it moving around the calendar is that it was never a set day, but the Saturday closest to May 10. Why May 10, I hear you cry? Because that's the anniversary of the Golden Spike being driven in at Promontory Point, Utah, to complete the building of the Transcontinental Railroad.) But whether or not it remains an officially promoted holiday by the government -- and isn't being celebrated here on a proper Saturday due to prior commitments, think of it as the train running behind schedule -- National Train Day (or as it used to be known around these parts once upon a time as "Let's Make Chris Dunn's Head Explode Day," but no more since he now, at long last, acknowledges Bridge on the River Kwai as a train movie) is nonetheless still one of the most joyous holidays of the year. This is from a trip I took a few years back from Los Angeles to Chicago. Though the food on a train isn't high-end, there are few things I think are more ethereally enjoyable than eating in a dining car as the country sweeps past the windows of the train . For our part here, we celebrate National Train Day on these pages by posting a list of the greatest train movies. These are films in which trains are absolutely central to the story. Where a train is the driving force of the tale, without which you can’t properly describe the plot. (Think of it like the classic and beloved Santa Claus song, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." Santa Claus isn't actually in the song at all. He hasn't even shown up yet. In most ways, it's about "you" and what you should do -- or better not do. But even though there's not a hint of Santa Claus even appearing in the song, without Santa Claus...there's no song.) We're strict about this. A friend once recommended The Taking of Pelham-1-2-3, and it was strongly considered, but that was a subway train or light rail. This list is for full-bore trains, the kind that either have sleeping cars and dining cars, or could if they were hitched on. But I've added it to our Honorable Mention list this year. Since the list is fluid, we keep adding to it. The most recent addition is Murder in the Private Car, made in 1934 and starring Charlie Ruggles, Mary Carlisle and Una Merkel. It's hardly a classic, but if you accept it as not intending to be anything more than a light-hearted murder mystery aboard a train, it's fun. Especially if you love train movies as a starting point. There are two other categories I've added recently: the just-mentioned Honorable Mention is for movies which you can generally tell their stories without using the word "train," but they have some connection to trains -- usually a great, standout train sequence, supportive to the story, but not essential in telling the plot -- that makes them memorable. And a few years ago I added a new category of Special Mention, for works that don't qualify as a train movie or perhaps even as a movie at all, but deserve a place of honor. But I didn't find any to expand the list with this year. And as I noted in the past, though something I think is likely very obvious, I love train movies. Here is the current list of Great Train Movies. 3:10 to Yuma Around the World in 80 Days Back to the Future 3 Bridge on the River Kwai Bullet Train The Commuter The Darjeeling Limited Emperor of the North The 5:17 to Paris The General The Girl on the Train The Great Locomotive Chase The Great Train Robbery The Lady Vanishes Murder in the Private Car Murder on the Orient Express (1974) The Narrow Margin North by Northwest Northwest Frontier Night Train to Munich Polar Express Runaway Train Shanghai Express Silver Streak Snowpiercer Source Code Strangers on a Train Tough Guys The Train Transsiberian Twentieth Century Union Pacific Union Station Unstoppable Von Ryan’s Express Honorable Mention Throw Momma from the Train Planes, Trains and Automobiles The Greatest Show on Earth Go West At the Circus Cat Ballou Trading Places Murder on the Orient Express (2017) Special Mention The Railrodder (short) The Taking of Pelham-1-2-3 (light-rail subway trains) Murder on the Orient Express (TV version, from the series Poirot) Great Railway Journeys of the World (TV documentary) Nothing Like It in the World by Stephen Ambrose (book) Empire Express: Building the First Transcontinental Railroad by David Haward Bain (book) I've also added another new feature in recent years -- a scene from one of the Great Train Movies, or another entry on the list. And this year we have the glorious sequence from Murder on the Orient Express -- the great version, directed by Sidney Lumet in 1974 -- when the train pulls out of the station. With near-perfect music by Richard Rodney Bennett. I wish the clip includes the full footage, about another 20 seconds with the train roaring across the countryside. But they chose to include only the material inside the station. Too bad, but understandable. Sidney Lumet writes about the complexity of this shot in his book, "Making Movies'. He said that they only had one take to do this. They could only use the Paris rail station for one night. It required an extensive set-up with the lighting and camera blocking timed perfectly. When they finally had everything ready, by then it was 4:30 in the morning, and sunrise was in a half-hour. So, it was get it in one take or not at all. That’s the actual Orient Express, by the way. The scene wasn’t filmed directly in the station, but the storage shed where the train was kept, not having been used in five years. During the preparation by the movie crew, a train crew was working to get the train in shape to run, specifically for this one shot. All the movie was shot on the real train, not sets. Train historians credit the movie with saving the Orient Express which eventually returned to service.
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Jerry Seinfeld directed and co-wrote an upcoming movie for Netflix, Unfrosted, very loosely (very) about how the Pop-Tart was developed. This is a pretty funny promotional film he made for the movie. My friend Rob Hedden, who I've occasionally mentioned here (often for his deep, abiding love of squirrels...) wrote and directed a movie called You May Not Kiss the Bride. The movie had a nice cast, starring Dave Annable and Katherine McPhee, with a supporting cast of Kathy Bates, Tia Carrere, Rob Schneider, Mena Suvari, Vinnie Jones and Stephen Tobolowsky. The story mostly takes place in Tahiti, and at one point in the film, Rob wanted to have a South Seas-type song to play. There was a piece of music they wanted, but couldn’t get the rights. They ended up getting an original song instead – and the story about how it came about is fascinating. I’d never heard the story, but it came up the other day when Rob was telling me about a family trip he’s about to take to Tahiti, and mentioned the song they got, called “Te Mama Tahiti.” It's a very good song, and it’s remarkable who wrote and recorded it (under a pseudonym), and how it came about. I don’t want to give it away, but here’s a link to the song. Listen to it (at least for a minute, so you can get a sense of it) before I tell you who did this for the movie, which I’ll explain below. Though you might want to listen to the whole thing. It's not that this was done for Rob's movie -- I honestly really like it, and I never would have guessed the artist who wrote and recorded it for them. Okay, the person who wrote this song, arranged it, sang the lead, sang all the background vocals and also played the music for my friend Rob Hedden to use in his movie was --- Rob Hedden! I knew that Rob wrote and sang music. He had a fun, goofy band for a while, Quayton and the Maxiwhackers. But when he sent me this song, I had no idea it was him. About half-way through, I did begin to suspect it might be him singing the lead – but I didn’t think he was all the background vocals (especially since at a few points it sounded like a woman singing, and wasn’t completely sure that he wrote it, or arranged it. The fun story to it is that after the production couldn’t get the rights to the song they wanted, Rob wrote, arranged and did this – but didn’t tell the producers it was all him. He just said that he had a friend who did this and would give it to them for free. (He said the producers really liked the song…but they especially loved that it was free!!) After the producers said that they liked it and agreed that it should be in the movie, only then did Rob tell them that it was all him. And he said that they didn’t believe him! He had to keep trying to convince them, until they did. By the way, the words are all gibberish. They’re real Tahitian words, but don’t mean anything. Which Rob (who is incredibly self-effacing) said is perfect for him. I honestly like the song, a lot. I’ve listened to it at least a dozen times. And I should append one thing I mention above – though it takes place in Tahiti, the movie was filmed in Hawaii. And if you want to see the trailer (it does a reasonable job), here’s the link – Okay, and just because we're honoring Rob today, what the heck, just for the pleasure of the good fellow, here's another squirrel video. Yesterday, O.J. Simpson died, and it was covered widely across the news. As I've mentioned here, I worked on the Naked Gun movies, in which he appeared, so I figured I should write something . Though I wasn't terribly anxious to. That's because they were among the most joyous work experiences I've ever had, and some of my fondest memories. (As I've noted previously, they even stuck me in couple of the films as butts of jokes.) And the trial and whole situation just sucked the joy out of that. It became so difficult to watch those movies for me, and even think about the work. Enough time has passed, so that the situation isn't as bad as all that any more -- but it's still achingly sad. And I'm not even remotely involved in what actually is sad about it, just tangentially from afar.
However, I did write about the subject a least somewhat here a decade ago when the mini-series The People vs. O.J. Simpson was on TV. I didn't have any interest in watching it, though did decide to add some thoughts. And I figured I could just repost much of what I wrote back then, with a few tweaks and minor additions, rather than go through it all again. As I wrote -- when the real court trial was on, and so many people in the country were mesmerized by it all, the public glued in front of the TV, and it was the Conversation Topic of the Day for months, I just didn't watch any of it either. Maybe a couple minutes total, but that's all. I didn't watch the "Dancing Ito" sketches on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. There was absolutely nothing "fun" about it for me. It was just so profoundly sad on every conceivable level. In no way is my reaction meant as "O woe is me." Not even remotely. I'm a far-distant bystander. My point is merely how deep the tragedy went. And how much it impacted, beyond the attention-grabbing value, beyond what is so obvious and so gut-wrenching to those who it actually, literally pummeled . During the whole period, people would ask me, "You worked with O.J., do you think he did it?" I could only stare at them and say that I had no earthly idea. I got along fine with him, he wasn't someone I'd want to become friends with because he was involved in so many projects, always busy flying around, and somewhat distant, but, no, he didn't strike me as a mass mass murder. Did he do it? How on earth would I know? Beyond that, I really didn't talk about things connected to the trial. I, of course, crossed paths with O.J. a bit. It was part of the job, notably have to get information for the press kit I was writing. But I'm not sure he even knew my name. I think it was something like, "Hey, man." Not because it was me, I don't think he bothered to learn pretty much anyone's name, other than those at the top. We only had two extended conversations: one in his trailer, dealing with the press kit, and one sitting on the set, which oddly dealt with his family. At one point, he brought up how his wife seemed to want to get together, but that wasn't anything he was interested in. Whether his story was true, I have no idea. But that was the conversation. It hasn't aged well with time. The only thing I ever really commented about the trial was my observation whenever I'd hear people debating O.J. Simpson's innocence or guilt, and there would be people almost gleefully proclaiming his innocence, based purely on the reputation of the Los Angeles police department and its poor history with racial matters. To be clear, my reaction wasn't about these people's opinion -- I completely understood it, and the gross unfairness of the judicial system and well-publicized transgressions of the L.A. police -- but it was their near-mirth and utter certainty defending him and hope that O.J. got off. My thought at such moments was always a simple question: "Would you feel the same if the person killed was your sister?" One day, I mentioned this to a friend of mine. A few weeks later, he called to tell me he had been with a crowd of people, all of who were "rooting" for O.J., certain he had been railroaded and hoped he was acquitted. He said that he brought up my question -- and it stopped the conversation cold. Absolute, total silence. The mirthful certainty, the aggressive desire for acquittal completely disappeared. Again, to reiterate, I have no idea if he was innocent or guilty, though I have my opinion. It's just that one's thought on the subject should be based on the facts, whether believing him innocent or guilty. Having said all this, there was one personal thing that did ever so lightly touch me and was such a shame. It's that I'd become friendly over the two movies with O.J.'s assistant, an absolutely lovely, wonderful lady. She'd been with him for many years, and was totally devoted to him and her job. I only heard her name mentioned a few times in the news, but I'm sure if I paid closer attention I'd have heard it more. Though she of course wasn't directly involved in the tragedy, I knew that her life was devastated, and what she'd seen as a lifetime career was over, and it was heart-breaking to me. I did try to reach out to her at one point, letting a little time pass into the case. But I never reached her -- I left a phone message of support, but I'm sure she stopped answering her phone, and I wouldn't be surprised if she even stopped listening to her messages. I miss being in touch with her. Really nice lady. There was also one big laugh that did come from it all. I was working on another movie with much of the same team that make the Naked Gun films when the verdict came down. As you might imagine, the production stopped as the announcement neared. And when "innocent" was announced...well, I'll just say that when you're sitting around comedy writers who know the people involved really well, the phrase "gallows humor" was never more apt. Also, I have kept the one "keepsake" I have of the time. During those days, O.J. was involved in many businesses, one of which is that he was on the board of directors for the company that made Swiss Army watches. He had one, and I commented how great I thought it was. He reached into his gym bag (and no, I doubt it's that one, I'm certain he had many), and he grabbed a box with a new watch, which he gave me. For all the connections the case holds in my mind, I've held on to the Swiss Army watch. I like it too much. And still use it on occasion. And as that watch ticks away, time passes. (Thus endeth the poetic portion of this article...) And I watch the movies, and enjoy them. And I enjoy thinking about the work and talking about it. But the films, while wonderfully funny, still aren't as innocently funny to me as once, and the memories still can't help have a shading. But happily, so many of those memories are great. So, while I did go on length here about the experience, I leave more detailed analysis of the crime and trial to others. Me, I'll stick with the movies. It's a DVR Day, it seems. This probably isn't for everybody, but for a personal reason I want to mention it, and for documentary film buffs, you'll definitely want to know about it. But even if you don't want to watch it, or only want to check it out for 20 minutes or so, there is a fascinating story about it being made. I got a PBS email the other day about a documentary that will be broadcast on PBS tonight (Friday), which caught my eye for a specific reason. It’s called Menus-Plaisirs – Les Troisgros. The documentary is about this famous family-run restaurant in France that has had three Michelin stars for 55 years. The reason it stood out for me is that Lest Troisgros was probably my parents’ favorite restaurant, and they would travel far out of their way to get there every year on trips to France for probably decades. They even became sort of “letter buddies” with the family. I absolutely know how they dearly would have loved to see this (and be thrilled it was even made). Though I then saw it’s running time. four hours! Putting aside how on earth could someone make a documentary about a restaurant that long, as much as I wanted to see it, that struck as too long for even my deep interest. But then I looked it up to see who made it. And this bowled me over even more. It's made by a man named Frederick Wiseman. That may mean nothing to most people, but it’s amazing to me for two reasons. The first is that he’s one of the most acclaimed documentary filmmakers ever. For perspective, in 2014, he was awarded the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement at the renowned Venice Film Festival. And in 2016, he got an Oscar from the Motion Picture Academy. He’s made 54 documentaries. And always used a special style, with no narrator, letting the action and reality tell the story. The first film of his I saw was Hospital 1970. His second film, Titicut Follies (made in 1967) was selected two years ago (in 2022) for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant". The point is he’s legendary. But still, I thought, how could this film be possible? It must be an old movie he made long ago that I never heard of. So, I looked him up -- and that’s the second point that amazed me. I was stunned to learn that Frederick Wiseman is not only still alive, but that in fact he did make this last year…when he was 93!! So, I definitely will watch. Probably not in one sitting. But that’s the good thing about being about to record a movie on the DVR. Without having seen it, the best I can offer for those uncertain about checking it out is that, for fans of the series The Bear, this is the real thing. At a very high end. Like the episode with 'Cousin' who briefly apprentices at a high-end restaurant and learns the importance of meticulous detail and caring. It airs on PBS in Los Angeles tonight (Friday), from 9pm to 1am. My guess is that's the time it airs in the East. In Chicago, it runs from 8pm to midnight. So thems who are interested can record it and watch at your leisure. After all, you can always record it, and watch the first half-hour and see if you want to keep watching… Given that the documentary is four hours, I can't imagine that a trailer will give much of a sense of the substance of the film. But this is a nice, four-minute featurette with Frederick Wiseman talking about how the documentary came to be, intercut throughout with scenes from the film. And what the heck, here's the trailer as a bonus -- or for those who'd rather watch it instead of the featurette. Clearly there's much more to the documentary than this hors d'ouevre, but this does show the craft. Set the DVR for Turner Classic Movies tonight if you haven't seen this movie -- or perhaps even if you have, but not for a long time since it first aired on television over 50 years ago. The movie is Duel -- and for some people, that's enough. For others who don't know it, this is one of the most acclaimed TV movies, not just for its quality, and not just for its technique, but also because it was the very first full-length movie directed by a young man who instantly became Someone to Keep an Eye On. That would be Steven Spielberg. The movie stars Dennis Weaver, who was a pretty solid TV name at the time. And it's written by Richard Matheson, based on his short story. (Among his many credits are the novel and screenplay for the film Somewhere in Time, and the famous Twilight Zone episode, "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet," where William Shatner thinks he sees a demon on the wing of the airline he's in.) But of course, it's Spielberg today who is the attention-getter. Duel is about road rage, inspired by a real-life experience that Matheson had. In the simplest terms, the plot is that Dennis Weaver accidentally annoys the driver of a semitrailer tanker, who takes it personally and chases after him through the Southern California Desert. But what makes the film so special and riveting is how it's told. There's almost no dialogue, and we never see the truck driver -- at most, just his feet and flashes of his body. As such, he becomes an almost mythic evil. We don't know why he has such fury at Weaver (nor does Weaver), he is unrelenting in his effort to run Weaver down, unconcerned with the threat to anyone who might get in the way, and as the riveting tension builds, and the pace and quick cuts intensify, Weaver is pushed to an almost primal state of fear and survival. The TV movie was so well-regarded that Universal released it theatrically in Europe, and even in limited run in the U.S. Because the TV version was 74 minutes, additional footage was shot to extend it to 90 minutes. From the timeslot that TCM has it in, I suspect this is the theatrical release. Duel airs tonight (Friday) on Turner Classic movies at 9 PM in Los Angeles, and midnight in the East. Probably 11 PM in the Midwest. This is the trailer. It doesn't do the movie justice -- though it does do a respectable job getting some of the idea across. |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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