This is a cheap but amusing tale of an attempted gold robbery on a train. It doubles down on the usual cheapness of sets that trains afford, to use the same set for all the passengers' sleeper cabins. Scenes and characters are borrowed from Rome Express, such as the poker game in the restaurant car, and from The Lady Vanishes, especially the travelling magicians and the collector of sounds.
The plot itself is neither here nor there, but the film scores many points for flashes of wit and twinkles in its eye, particularly the universal incompetence of all the characters. The lead is an incredibly wet journalist summoned to find a scoop on his wedding day. His new (and already long-suffering) wife accompanies him. Look out for the waiter on the train patiently watching them as they exhaustively choose what to eat and drink. The big joke at the end is that the journalist is scooped by his wife (which, for a journalist, is probably worse than being cuckolded, though doubtless that is to come).
We are also treated to a pair of sisters who have accidentally become thriller writers. Ivy St Helier is enormously endearing as Emma, relishing the notoriety that only embarrasses her battleaxe sister, and it is cinema's loss that she only made five films. An impoverished magician is reduced to smuggling his assistant, another endearing turn by Jill Melford, on board. Patrick Boxill is the randy diver who is transporting the gold while eyeing all the girls. Delphi Lawrence prowls the corridors with a pistol. Bill Shine, perhaps the most experienced in the cinema of all the cast, hardly gets a line despite blocking all the corridors with his rucksack. Meanwhile, the villain's accomplice, a garage owner who specialises in swindling drivers out of a couple of shillings, is splendidly hopeless in his attempts to pick up the loot, offending one of his confederates (Sam Kydd, inevitably), losing the other, and attracting the attention of every policeman within miles. At the close, the entire cast has been kidnapped, and are rescued by a six year old boy armed with a water pistol who then runs off to be sick.
It's not thrilling. It is enormous fun instead.
The plot itself is neither here nor there, but the film scores many points for flashes of wit and twinkles in its eye, particularly the universal incompetence of all the characters. The lead is an incredibly wet journalist summoned to find a scoop on his wedding day. His new (and already long-suffering) wife accompanies him. Look out for the waiter on the train patiently watching them as they exhaustively choose what to eat and drink. The big joke at the end is that the journalist is scooped by his wife (which, for a journalist, is probably worse than being cuckolded, though doubtless that is to come).
We are also treated to a pair of sisters who have accidentally become thriller writers. Ivy St Helier is enormously endearing as Emma, relishing the notoriety that only embarrasses her battleaxe sister, and it is cinema's loss that she only made five films. An impoverished magician is reduced to smuggling his assistant, another endearing turn by Jill Melford, on board. Patrick Boxill is the randy diver who is transporting the gold while eyeing all the girls. Delphi Lawrence prowls the corridors with a pistol. Bill Shine, perhaps the most experienced in the cinema of all the cast, hardly gets a line despite blocking all the corridors with his rucksack. Meanwhile, the villain's accomplice, a garage owner who specialises in swindling drivers out of a couple of shillings, is splendidly hopeless in his attempts to pick up the loot, offending one of his confederates (Sam Kydd, inevitably), losing the other, and attracting the attention of every policeman within miles. At the close, the entire cast has been kidnapped, and are rescued by a six year old boy armed with a water pistol who then runs off to be sick.
It's not thrilling. It is enormous fun instead.