Train stations in film noir are liminal spaces – thresholds between lives, between identities, between the places a person is trying to leave and the places they are trying to reach. They are also spaces of maximum social mixing, where all classes and conditions of people move through the same grand halls, creating opportunities for encounter, surveillance, and pursuit. The train itself, with its enforced proximity to strangers and its movement through the darkness, is the noir vehicle par excellence: a setting that combines confinement with motion, and where the departure platform is always a stage for the most desperate kinds of human feeling.
A chance encounter between two strangers on a train – a tennis player and a psychopath – results in a murder exchange proposal that the tennis player cannot bring himself to reject definitively. Hitchcock makes the train compartment into a space where identity is dangerously fluid and every encounter consequential.
The murder is staged to look like the victim fell from a moving train, and the murderer must board the train himself to play his dead victim’s role – a performance that nearly unravels when he encounters a man he knows in the observation car. The train sequence is the film’s most precisely constructed scene.
A detective must protect a mob widow from assassins during a cross-country train journey, conducted in the film’s 71 minutes with almost no scene set anywhere other than the train’s corridors and compartments. Charles McGraw creates one of the decade’s most efficient and suspenseful B-pictures.
A kidnapping investigation centered on Chicago’s Union Station is conducted in real locations with a documentary precision that makes the architecture of the station – its waiting rooms, luggage facilities, and underground passages – the film’s primary dramatic element. William Holden is quietly effective as the transit policeman.
A railroad engineer’s world – the locomotive cab, the railroad yards, the trains moving through night landscapes – provides a deterministic metaphor for a man who cannot change direction once he has been put on a track by the woman he loves. Glenn Ford’s engine driver is literally driving toward doom.
Five men rob a government gold train in a heist sequence of extraordinary precision, then attempt to move the gold across country to a smelter. The railroad’s rationalized geography makes the perfect crime slightly possible and ultimately impossible.
A druggist creates a false identity by discarding his glasses at a train station, beginning his transformation into a would-be murderer who will ultimately pull back from the brink. The train station functions as a threshold between his legitimate life and the criminal double he is constructing.
A man just released from an asylum wins a cake at a wartime charity fete and finds himself immediately plunged into a Nazi spy ring, much of it conducted through the station and train network of wartime London. Fritz Lang makes the mundane wartime setting feel profoundly unstable.
A young woman suspects the man she met at a bus terminal of involvement in her father’s murder, and sets out to investigate while falling under his dangerous charm. The film’s transportation settings give it an unusual atmosphere of transit and uncertainty.
Joan Crawford’s playwright meets her future husband on a train, and the relationship that begins in the charged atmosphere of travel eventually places her in mortal danger. The train is where she makes the one decision that will unmake her life.