Sleeping Car to Trieste (1948)

Directed and produced by John Paddy Carstairs; produced by George H Brown

After stealing a diary from an embassy in Paris, spies Valya (Jean Kent) and Zurta (Albert Lieven) are double-crossed by their associate, Poole. They follow him on board the Simplon Orient Express, bound for the Adriatic port of Trieste; other passengers include a couple (Derrick De Marney, Rona Anderson) sneaking away illicitly, a boring civil servant (David Tomlinson), and a pompous author (Finlay Currie). All will somehow be mixed up in the subsequent deadly intrigue.

A curious movie, Sleeping Car to Trieste joins the sub-genre of train-adventure films, and probably hoped to tread the path made by The Lady Vanishes and Night Train to Munich. It doesn’t reach their standard, unfortunately, though it does make for an entertaining story.

While Sleeping Car to Trieste lacks a central character, or leading couple, this is not its principal fault. After all, ensemble casts can create winning films, though even in such pictures there is usually one character who grounds the others, or at least the story. In this case, however, there are few that are likeable. An exception is the French police inspector, Jolif (Paul Depuis), who, while amiable and clearly intelligent, isn’t really instrumental in wrapping up the many story-lines (or the crime that occurs on the train). Otherwise, though, the personalities range from murderous and duplicitous to unfaithful and tedious.

This lack of sympathetic characters isn’t a fatal flaw, since the characters who are presented – however unpleasant – are well defined and come across as multi-dimensional. Even Zurta and Valya generate some interest in their mutual attraction, depending even as it does on their mission’s success. The acting from all the players is very good, and rises above what might be considered a b-movie.

That the viewer really is kept baffled as to the story’s outcome is a result of the writing, which almost matches the acting in quality. Whether the audience will be sustained to the finale is another matter, since the characters may be too off-putting for that. There are problems with the script: there is no explanation as to the explosiveness of the diary in question. If it is published, ‘it will mean revolution’. Alfred Hitchcock called such an item a ‘McGuffin’; it might be a list of enemy agents, or a scientific formula, or, as in this case, a diary. It is simply something that various parties have or want.

Another difficulty is the boring comic relief attempted by the inclusion of an Englishman (David Hutcheson) not placing much effort on learning how to cook railway fare; his father had arranged his tuition on the train. The actor is too old for the rôle, the part is unfunny, and one cannot imagine a chef on the Orient Express tolerating such a buffoon. Less tiresome is the second comic situation in which an American soldier (Bonar Colleano) has to put up with an ornithologist (Michael Ward). Though better than the cooking student, both these sets of characters should have been given some tie to the plot-line. Neither is amusing enough to justify its inclusion apart from the rest of the story.

Despite its troubles, Sleeping Car to Trieste is a minor success, thanks mainly to the good acting and the adequate writing. The viewer probably won’t fall asleep in this sleeping car, but will be nonetheless glad to reach the destination.