
If there was ever a film that’s title reflected the most deranged sense of false marketing, it would be Strangers on a Train, since only approximately ten minutes of this film are spent on a train, and the two titular characters introduce themselves almost immediately, removing all sense of them being strangers. Luckily, this is probably the only aspect of this film that can be criticized, since Alfred Hitchcock’s adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s demented and brilliant novel immediately becomes one of the most twisted and fascinating psychological thrillers to ever be committed to film. Like any of the director’s most well-regarded works, there’s not any real need to wax poetic and prove that this is a great film – it’s almost entirely considered as close to a fact by this point, at least in terms of the genres that Hitchcock was most frequently working in. However, revisiting this film, as is the case with his other masterpieces, involves looking beyond the reputation and engaging with the components that made it such a success in the first place – and through some very memorable storytelling techniques, a couple of fantastic performances and a directorial vision that has yet to be overtaken in terms of delivering the sheer amount of thrills in the relatively small space that he was given for each of his films (especially the more low-budget, intimate ones, which oddly tend to be his most cherished works), it’s relatively easy to understand why Hitchcock isn’t only proudly labelled the Master of Suspense, but perhaps the greatest director to ever work in the medium as a whole – and having this be an adaptation by one of the most fascinating writers of her generation only enrichens the experience.
Highsmith and Hitchcock were a match made in heaven – the author wrote many absolutely captivating novels that combined thrilling crime stories with deep social commentary, while the director often worked to establish a set of films that reflected similar themes. It’s almost a pity Hitchcock was never able to direct one of Highsmith’s iconic Tom Ripley novels, since he’d have undoubtedly made something special out of them (the idea of the esteemed director making his own version of The Talented Mr Ripley should have both literature and film lovers positively salivating). However, Strangers on a Train is a perfectly decent alternative, and some may even consider it a better choice, since this is a story that lends itself to the director’s sensibilities. After all, the themes of mistaken identity, the quiet manipulation of complete strangers, and being forced into committing a crime (with the alternative being to be accused of a similar crime that you didn’t commit) are all ideas that clearly fascinated Hitchcock, many of his thrillers featuring similar ideas. The sheer volume of works that followed this film and cited it as a direct inspiration, some of them even outright parodying or paying homage to some of the central themes found in this film proves what an important piece of filmmaking this is – and like any iconic film, it received that level of timelessness purely because it is a well-made, interesting piece of cinema that keeps the audience engaged, entertaining and shocking us in tandem – and we know from the first moment when the overtures of Dimitri Tiomkin’s gorgeous score plays that we’re going to be in exceptionally good hands with this story.
However, Strangers on a Train is one of the director’s most influential projects not purely because of the story (which is relatively simple), but the methods he takes to tell it. Hitchcock always put in the work, even when he was one of Hollywood’s most sought-after and acclaimed directors. With the exception of a few failures later in his career as he grew older and perhaps slightly too ambitious, all of his films offer us the chance to be thoroughly entertained, even those that centre on the act of murder. Only a genuinely gifted director would create a film so deranged in terms of the plot, but still strangely delightful, and perhaps even slightly humorous – after all, the one common thread throughout nearly all of Hitchcock’s films are his genuine belief that we live in an absurd world doomed to repeat our own discretions as long as there are ways to get away with it, even if only through slipping through the smallest cracks. We never know whether the hero or villain will triumph, which makes a film like Strangers on a Train so genuinely captivating, since so much of the drama entails a tug-of-war between the two main characters, who adversarial game of cat-and-mouse drives most of the story, to the point where either one of them could come out on top by the end and have it feel entirely natural. It’s so fascinating, we don’t even feel the relief that comes with the happy ending, since what mattered were the moments leading up to it, the strange and disquieting tension that kept us on the edge of our seats and forced us into a position of complete docility as we allowed this film to just take hold of our senses as it journeys deep into the deepest recesses of humanity to tell this terrifying but enthralling story.
Thrilling audiences aren’t always the easiest task, but Hitchcock was so perfectly capable of inciting the most substantial emotions in his viewers, we can often take his work for granted. It’s easy to view Strangers on a Train as simply an untouchable entity, the perfect embodiment of the director’s very clear and distinct style – but as a filmmaker who approached his process through deconstructing stories (often garnered from literary adaptations or collaborations with some very impressive writers who understood Hitchcock’s style and interests as an artist) and finding the root of what terrifies and enthrals audiences in the process. This film is one of the best examples of this in practice, since the premise is so effortlessly easy to understand, to the point where it would’ve been seen as a pedestrian work of pulp fiction had it been made by a lesser director. It’s a film built from a very simple premise and a few key ideas that persist throughout (has there ever been a more simple but chilling motif as the term “crisscross” as used in this film?), and just a very vivid atmosphere of suspense and terror, which collides directly with Hitchcock’s clear intentions for the material. There are some socio-economic undertones to the film (as there often were in his work), but they’re not pronounced to the point where it becomes overwrought – this is essentially the story of someone finding himself in a bad situation, where the only option is either to be found guilty of a crime that he didn’t commit, or retreat in the hopes that the truth will be revealed in the process. In true Hitchcockian fashion, there are several twists and turns that keep us guessing, and every subsequent viewing is rewarded with more details being uncovered, each new scene revealing more about these characters and their different legal and existential journeys.
While it may not be the pinnacle of his career (despite being one of his many masterpieces), Strangers on a Train certainly one of his most enduring in terms of showcasing the director in his element. It’s a simple premise, one that is very much within Hitchcock’s wheelhouse, but it never feels as if he is resting on his laurels. Instead, he is consistently in pursuit of both a fascinating narrative and truly engrossing thrills, which emerge gradually through the story as we come to know these characters. Farley Granger and Robert Walker are excellent as the star-crossed (or is it, “crisscrossed”?) rivals who find each other by chance, and ingrain themselves in each other’s lives, to the point where their initial meeting was less of a pleasant encounter, and more a threat to their most fundamental freedoms. The latter in particular plays one of Hitchcock’s most deranged villains, his smirking malice and stone-faced conviction being both terrifying and absolutely unforgettable (his tragic demise shortly after completing this film robbed us of one of the most gifted young actors working at the time, since he clearly had so much more to offer). The actors serve a vital purpose in bringing this story to the screen with their straightforward but effective understanding of the material, fitting perfectly into the world created by the director. As the first film in arguably his most acclaimed and beloved decade, Strangers on a Train is a vital entry into Hitchcock’s oeuvre, one of the many brilliant works that demonstrate his prowess and ability to weave gold out of the most straightforward, pulpy material – and he was justly rewarded with yet another film that has made his reputation unimpeachable, and his work immortal.

This film opens with two pairs of men’s shoes. One are comfortable brown loafers accompanied by a light hearted theme, and the other are stylish two toned dress shoes undercut by an ominous, even sinister piece of music. Each are worn by unseen men exiting different cabs and headed to a train. Here Hitchcock cuts to two train tracks merging to a single route. With these brief images, the highly regarded director established his intent to examine duality.
The visual poetry of duality here has been beloved by audiences and celebrated in criticism. Hitchcock makes his trademark cameo carrying a “double” bass. Bruno orders doubles in the train car bar. The audience witnesses Miriam’s murder in the reflection of the lens of a pair of eyeglasses. Those glasses become a visual symbol later in the film when Anne dons an identical pair that triggers something dark in Bruno. Cinematographer Robert Burks lights the film with divisions of dark and light. That is reflected in a visual comment of societal values of how murder and homoerotic impulse are kept in shadow. Part of the joy of repeated viewings of this Hitchcock masterpiece is discovering the multitude of pairs appearing on screen.
Strangers on a Train stands as the finest film of 1951. While lyrical adaptations of Tennessee Williams and Theodore Dreiser’s finest literary efforts earn plaudits, Hitchcock provides an exemplary opportunity to see how the visual art form can evolve past the spoken word to create emotion in artistry.