- We need to start riding trains again. I'm not talking about Amtrak, either. I mean big trains with sleeping compartments, dining cars, and railroad agents. The possibilities for adventure are endless! If you want proof, you need look no further than Richard Fleischer's excellent film noir The Narrow Margin. More than half of the film takes place on a train, and the proceedings are never dull for a moment.
- The reason this particular train is so interesting is that it contains a widow named Neal (Marie Windsor), whose late husband was a notorious gangster. Mrs. Neal has reluctantly agreed to name names, but whether or not her testimonial is successful depends largely upon whether the stalwart Detective Brown (Charles McGraw) can get her to a Los Angeles courtroom alive. Trying its best to outsmart Brown is a collection of hoodlums (David Clarke, Peter Virgo, and Peter Brocco), notable primarily for their diversity of approaches to intimidation. And then there are the other passengers, including a rotund man (Paul Maxey) who seems to pop up everywhere and a charming woman (Jacqueline White) whose young son (Gordon Gebert) gives new meaning to the term rambunctious. I'll stop short of detailing precisely how they fit into the story.
- The key to The Narrow Margin's success is largely Marie Windsor's compelling performance as a woman who perfectly meets Brown's expectations: "cheap, flashy, strictly poison under the gravy." Just the sort of woman you'd figure would be married to a gangster, I'd say. McGraw, too, is enjoyably gruff as Brown, while Maxey is surprisingly entertaining as a fat man loved by nobody "except his grocer and his tailor." The only thing that doesn't make sense about The Narrow Margin is the trajectory that the director's career took after this film was made. Fleischer went on to helm plenty of big-budget spectacles, including a few good adventure romps (20000 Leagues Under the Sea, The Vikings), but with diminishing returns as time progressed (Amityville 3-D, Conan the Destroyer, Red Sonja). It's strange to think that the man responsible for one of the more pleasantly compact films noir would develop a career famous for its excesses. For my part, I wish Fleischer had stuck with trains.
