- It was just six months ago after enjoying The Narrow Margin that I was complaining about how people don't set films on trains anymore. Instead of whining about it, I should have just gone and watched Brad Anderson's surprisingly compelling Transsiberian. Now, this is a train mystery in the classic sense. People go missing while traversing exotic locales, suspicious characters are encountered, there's a little running from the past, and yes, there's eventually a dead body. It's not the one you'd expect, but delivering the unexpected is this film's modus operandi.
- At first, it doesn't seem like that will be the case. In fact, the film initially telegraphs itself as a modern-day retelling of The Lady Vanishes that, no matter how good, inevitably would have compared poorly to the original. But that's all part of the film's plan. When naive American tourists Jessie (Emily Mortimer) and Roy (Woody Harrelson) board the train from Beijing to Moscow, we're meant to assume that this is the standard train mystery setup. When seemingly innocent yet slightly mysterious travelers Carlos (Eduardo Noriega) and Abby (Kate Mara) share Jessie and Roy's compartment, we are meant to become suspicious of them. When Roy goes missing after leaving the train with Carlos, we are supposed to assume the worst. Presumably, the Russian detective Grinko (Ben Kingsley) will be standing in for Hitchcock staple Leo G. Carroll to clear everything up, right? Decidedly not.
- Transsiberian does so many things right that it's difficult to identify a single ingredient that makes it work so well. Certainly all of the acting is excellent, with Harrelson standing out in particular as a man who embodies nearly every American stereotype (good and bad) without being obnoxious. Mortimer, too, is good as a former party girl trying to lead the good life, as is Noriega as a shameless playboy whose flippant behavior covers up some dark undercurrents. The film's settings are bleakly beautiful (filmed on location in China, Russia, and Lithuania), and the Russian babushkas and matryoshkas are appropriately authentic. While emulating Hitchcock is obviously a noble pursuit, I do wish that the film hadn't copied Psycho's protracted ending, but that's a minor gripe over an otherwise pleasantly unpredictable film. When a certain train door opens in the film's final third to reveal a surprise that nobody could have expected, you'll gasp and realize that somebody has breathed new life into the train mystery.
