Movie Review: "The Girl On The Train"

"The Girl On The Train": C+.  Other than realizing that The Girl On The Train is based on the best selling novel by Paula Hawkins, I went in cold to see the movie of the same title.  I had not read the book nor even a snippet of any movie review.  What I expected, something similar to Agatha Christie's Murder On The Orient Express, proved to be way off.

The story centers around three very imperfect women.  Their imperfections are what drives the plot.  Rachel (Emily Blunt) is the girl on the train, and the story's first narrator.  Unlike Orient Express, she is not traveling across the continent; in fact, it's a commuter train.  As the train slowly passes by the back yard of a beautiful suburban home with an ocean view, she tells us it's her favorite house.  She even knows the street address.  How weird!  It's not until later we learn why she has that info.  Much of the story telling follows suit, waiting until a later point to explain head-scratching actions and dialogue.  That is not to say all such puzzles are explained.  Rachel is an alcoholic and thus, as a narrator, not all of her recollections of events are made clear for the viewer.  She can fairly be labeled a stalker.

 

Megan (Haley Bennett) is the young nanny whose face could launch several thousand ships.  (I wonder, has Ben Affleck has seen this film?)  Her employers are Tom (Justin Theroux) and Anna (Rebecca Ferguson) who have an infant daughter, Evie.  Megan appears trustworthy until she surprises Anna with the announcement that she is quitting immediately.  She justifies her inconsiderate behavior by pointing out to Anna that the young mother does not have a job, the implication being that Anna does not really need a nanny.  Megan goes to a psychiatrist, Dr. Kamal Abdic (Edgar Ramirez), to whom she admits that she is incapable of telling the truth, even to him.  She also reveals that the first thing she does when she gets off work is to jump in the shower "to wash off the baby smell."  Megan is a liar with mental health issues, and can fairly be labeled a nymphomaniac.

 

The character of Anna is underdeveloped, but we do know that she is "the other woman" who is now married to Rachel's ex, Tom, and lives with him in Rachel's wonderful old house.  Anna may appear angelic, but don't let that sweet countenance fool you.  She is a conniver and a manipulator.  Granted, she is a victim, but she might fairly be labeled as an enabler.

 

The men in this story are no bargain either, each of them devoid of moral fiber.  The psychiatrist lacks will power and makes stupid, career-jeopardizing decisions, while the other two lead males are abusers to different degrees.  It is accurate to write that, with exceptions that you can count on one hand, all of the characters are unlikable.  With an ensemble like that, the story itself better be good.  Alas, it isn't.

 

To use a low-hanging metaphor, the tale is slow to leave the station.  After the first half hour we wonder if it will ever kick into high gear.  The herky-jerky time line, with an abundance of flashbacks, contributes to this drag effect.  How sad is it that Rachel feels compelled to ride the train time after time and gape at her old stomping grounds?  She is stuck in neutral, mostly because her alcoholism and probable depression hold her captive.  Blunt's portrayal of the wounded Rachel, sometimes lucid but often downcast, confused and memory-challenged, is the main reason to watch this film.

 

The present day catalyst occurs when Rachel, through the train's window, spots Megan standing on her home's ocean-side balcony, passionately kissing a man who Rachel knows is not Megan's husband, Scott (Luke Evans).  Rachel is certain of what she's witnessed because, on several prior rail journeys past Megan's home, Rachel has become almost fixated by what she's deemed to be a couple (Megan and Scott) in the throes of wedded bliss.  Rather than let it ride -- no pun intended -- Rachel decides to right a wrong.  This, even though Rachel herself has plenty of her own problems which she'd be better off addressing.

 

At least three of the six main characters do something so far fetched that I almost want to skim through Hawkins' novel to determine whom to blame, her or script writer Erin Wilson.  I am guessing Hawkins is the culprit because those unlikely actions are needed to advance the plot.  One example: Character A, knowing s/he is under twenty-four hour surveillance by the police in connection with a missing persons case, goes over to the residence of Character B, also under police suspicion, and spends the night.  Yeah, right.

 

I am usually a sucker for train stories, but to label this film as such would be a misnomer. Rachel spends as much time walking around Blenheim Road as she does on the train.  My fondness for train stories remains intact.