Spy Train (1943)

Before going any further, let's get this out of the way. Spy Train is a B movie and comes to us from Monogram, one of the Big Three studios of Poverty Row. In other words, "the sets look shoddy" or "I don't know any of these actors" aren't valid criticisms.

Having said that, this movie isn't particularly memorable even when applying the more forgiving standards that should be utilized to review this kind of fare.

The basis premise of the plot — there's a time bomb on a train — is simple enough. Less straightforward is the sequence of events that results in the bag carrying the bomb winding up on the train in the first place. Then again, logic is often a casualty of the fast-moving B films. The idea is to shut up, not think too hard and just enjoy the fun and action on the most superficial level.

Here, more or less, is how the suspense is set up:

* A woman named Jane Thornwall (Catherine Craig) is on her way to visit her newspaper publisher father Max (Herbery Heyes). She's accompanied by her maid Millie (Thelma White).

* Writer Bruce Grant (Richard Travis) cozies up to Jane under false pretenses. What he really wants to do is get an audience with Mr. Thornwall and find out why the boss killed Grant's series of articles exposing Nazi spies. Grant is accompanied by photographer/jokester sidekick Stew (Chick Chandler).

* There's a bunch of Nazis (Paul McVey, Evelyn Brent, Warren Hymer, Steve Roberts and Forrest Taylor) who are responsible for the bomb and are desperate to recover incriminating documents in a similar bag. Well, we're told their Nazis, in any event. This being 1943, Germans make convenient villains but the plot, such as it is, could have worked just as well if the bad guys were counterfeiters or gangster hitmen. In fact, they look and sound more like run of the mill U.S. crooks than disciples of the Third Reich. We take it on faith that they're Nazis because they say so and they act in a humourless manner, disparage Americans and toss out the occasional "dumbkopf" or "schweinhund."

* There's also a moustachioed, bushy-eyebrowed character — what '40 film-makers would have considered "a foreign type" — who lurks in plain sight and makes every effort to look shady. We find out later he's an Italian who doubled-crossed the Germans. Ah, ripped from the headlines.

The German spies have figured out a way to destroy the bag containing the incriminating documents, which is being held at a train station baggage check. The heat is on, so they don't want to risk checking out the bag and getting caught redhanded. Instead, they check in a similar bag containing the bomb, with the idea of blowing up the evidence. In the most far-fetched contrivance of the plot, the Germans suddenly change their mind and decide to trick the maid into bringing the bag containing the documents on the train. All the easier to retrieve the problematic papers, you understand (never mind that the documents would have been blown to smithereens if they would have just left well enough alone). Naturally, the whole thing gets botched and Millie unwittingly lugs the tick-tick-ticking bag aboard.

Having said all that, train films have a certain charm. The closed environment and the constant chugga-chugga-chugga and ding-ding-ding background noise enhance the viewing experience for some. And B movies zoom along at the pace of a speeding locomotive, so there's rarely a chance to dwell on the plot holes or iffy acting.

And the movie is not without its moments. The script is somehwat amusing, with the photographer sidekick providing most of the yuks. Forced to make nice with Millie while Bruce works on Jane, Stew makes no effort to hide his comtempt. Like the time he orders a cyanide highball for the lady, for instance. There's also a funny exchange when Jane discovers Bruce's true identity when she sees his photo on the jacket cover of one of his books.

Jane: "Pretty good book — who wrote it for you?"

Bruce: "I'm glad you liked it — who read it to you?"

Then there's immortal line when the lurking Italian is found in a heap in the women's compartment and Stew initially thinks the guy's had a few too many belts.

Bruce sets him straight: "He's not drunk, he's deader than a hammer."

The whole thing gets wrapped up in short order — the running time is just a shade over an hour — and no one is really any better or worse off for the experience.

Who’d like it: There's a slight historical value in that the film gives you a glimpse into the wartime sensibilities and the propaganda that was worked into much of the entertainment of the period. The protagonists continually refer to the Germans as "Heinies" and a poisoned drink is called a "Hitler coacktail." If you had an hour to kill and wanted to keep your brain in low gear, you could do worse.

Who should stay away: Most folks, really. While it's not impossible a viewer will be hooked by the story, no one in good conscience could recommend this picture with any conviction.