The ominous title reflects the weighty, unsubtle symbolism that grows wild through this tale of human pity. A meek, henpecked clerk lives a monotonous life in a drab backwater with his wife and child. He thinks of the trains that pass him by, and their romantic destinations. When a bundle dirty money comes his way by chance, he gets to take the express to Paris.
Claude Rains is the main asset, as the fastidious middle aged drudge for whom fortune deals an ill fated second chance. He becomes involved with a beautiful mercenary (Märta Torén) who only has eyes for his suitcase full of cash. Away from his usual bonds, the naive dupe unravels as his dream escapes him.
Really, it's film noir, but in inky Technicolor, and set in Europe. The radiant location footage of fifties Paris is a big bonus. The film doesn't quite sustain its suspense to the climax. And it lacks the touch of a skilful director. But there's a haunting atmosphere of gloomy fatalism which stays in the memory.
It's an adaptation of a story by Georges Simenon, but sans Maigret. Marius Goring is the Dutch policeman on the trail of the swag. Märta Torén makes a stunning, and very cold hearted femme fatale. But it's most distinguished by one of Claude Rains' very occasional leading roles, as a man who dares to recklessly dream, and pays the big price.