The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974)

At the time of it's release, what is now known as 'the heist movie' was just starting to find it's cinematic feet. After relative successes like 'Ocean's Eleven' and 'The Italian Job' in the 60s, Sam Peckinpah's 'The Getaway' (1972) became something of a box office hit, thus opening the door for more of the like. Because as we all know, when Hollywood finds something that works, they'll rinse the living arse out of it until it don't work no more. 

Which brings us to this film. Starring the unmatched Robert Shaw and Walter Matthau, this entry into the genre was showered with critical praise upon it's release, most notably for it's originality, performances and, in particular, its score (which is magnificent). The story unfolds as such: four armed men hijack, of all things, a New York City subway train in the middle of a typical busy day, holding it for ransom of a million dollars and threatening to kill all passengers aboard their carriage if demands aren't met. An intriguing premise, I think we can all agree.  

It should immediately be noted that the first hour of this film is nothing short of superb. It's realistic depiction of a day in the life of a bustling city, and the machinations that make said everyday life possible really help to establish a backdrop in which we, the viewer, can believe that this might actually happen. This is followed by a meticulous plan put in motion by Robert Shaw and his gang of mercenaries, set to a pounding score from David Shire. The way this is filmed, acted, and executed is nothing short of masterful and a joy to watch. How the robbers execute their plan is a lesson in tension-building. 

After the first half hour or so, a deadly game of cat and mouse begins between the transit authorities, the NYPD, the FBI, and the criminals. Again the tension is ratcheted up notch by notch and the threat of violence feels very real and imminent. You could argue that this is down to the plot, but let's be honest for a moment, it is Robert Shaw himself that adds this element. Every role he played in his career had a certain level of gravitas, none more famously than that of 'Quint' in 1975's mega smash and all-time classic, 'Jaws'. You always got the sense with him that there might be genuine danger in play. There's something about the way he looks at people where you find yourself thinking 'this bloke might've actually killed someone'. In this film this quality, if that's the right term, is used to outstanding effect. Even though he is calm, composed, articulate and speaking in immaculate renounced pronunciation British, you get the feeling that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot a granny in the face if they even thought about disobeying his orders, and that gives the entire thing an air of menace that few films of this nature manage to achieve. On the other side of the coin, Matheu is equally excellent as the moral ying to Shaw's yang. He is affable, funny, slightly grumpy (of course) and quite brilliant in his analysis and handling of the situation. Without these two performances at it's core, it's hard to say if the film would've worked so well. 

Despite many outstanding flourishes like this and the general sense of top-tier filmmaking from director Jospeh Sargent, what hinders this film from being a bonafide classic is the third act itself. This could be because the standard set by the first two acts is so high that it's hard to keep pace. Or it could be a simple flaw in the execution of the story itself. You see, for the duration of this film, it becomes increasingly obvious (even to law enforcement) that there is no escape for the robbers once they pull off their daring heist. After all, they are trapped underground - if the police simply block all exits, they should be apprehended with minimal fuss. Yet this is Robert Shaw we're talking about, and he seems entirely unbothered by this fact. So, you think, there must be some wickedly cunning plan at hand. Will they pull off some sort of daring double bluff? Will they slaughter all in their path to gain freedom? These type of questions keep this film pulsing along. Initially. 

When the third act actually unfolds, however, it feels somewhat underwhelming. Up until that point, everything has been executed with such skill that you feel the energy building towards some sort of orgasmic crescendo. Unfortunately, it never really quite transpires. You could argue that a driverless train gaining speed and battering it's way through the subway is exciting, but the conclusion to that set-piece kind of just happens. As it goes with the post-heist sequence in general, it all suddenly becomes a bit easy for Mathau and his team. For most films, it wouldn't be as glaring of an issue but for a film where the bar is set this high, it feels like a huge miss. When the presence of Shaw leaves the film, in what has to rank as one of the weirdest death scenes in the history of cinema, you feel it. It leaves something of a gaping chasm that can't really be filled, even if you're filling it with a death-defying runaway train sequence. 

So, while a large portion of this film is phenomenal (obviously, I suppose - it's been remade not once but twice since it's release), the ending falls somewhat flat. Overall though, this film is highly worth a visit, if only to serve as yet another reminder that the 1970s really was the golden age of cinema and the sheer skill and power with which films were made is almost non-existent today, which is a bloody great shame. This film remains something of a cultural milestone, kicking open the door for heist movies to go bigger and bolder. As a blueprint for what could be done in this genre, it's almost second to none and, despite its flaws, will remain in high regard for that reason alone. 

★★★★☆

JB.