In the 1970s the Americans made some really great films, I'm sure you can think of several yourself. This is one of the best from that time. The actors are all real characters and there are no dud performances. Even the minor supporting roles are performed with gusto by high quality actors, the policemen and the loud subway supervisors are a joy to watch.
It's slickly directed and edited, the story hangs together pretty well. There are wry laughs, horror, plenty of action and the closing scene is absolutely gripping.
I strongly recommend this film.
Two decades before the villainous cast of Reservoir Dogs were named after colours, there were those who addressed one another by similar monickers while hijacking the eponymous New York subway train in The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974). Four men, all dressed alike, sought a cool (used) million in exchange for releasing the eighteen passengers (including two children) left aboard that carriage as, after a halt, it hurtles southwards in something close to real time while, above ground, police sirens wail and transit chief Walter Matthau barks into a microphone and the City's mayor whimpers upon a 'flu-ridden bed.
No animator or computer generator could ever hope to match the movements of Matthau's face; this always moved from threat to barbed aside in an instant, all of it with a humane thrust, here superbly aided by David Shire's jazz-infused music; and, if anybody needs to be shown the part played by film editors, then step forward Gerald Greenberg and Ronald Lovett: the way in which they cut between scenes as the clock ticks is matchless.
One might wonder quite how Joseph Sargent came to direct this film, for previously and afterwards he was by and large occupied with tv movies. No matter, here is an accomplished film, one of the most exciting ever made, not least because it turns upon character, wit, closing doors and brake-pedal
And it sprang from a brisk novel by John Godey. He knew that raw Manhattan well: another novel turned around a snake on the loose on Central Park, which one can well imagine that this was optioned for a film but, alas, it was never made.
Hard-pressed residents at that time must have found it startling to nip out for a snack and find themselves asked to stand back on the sidewalk, out of camera shot, while a full-pelt, “hard-rubber” scene was made (I think that's the term I heard).
Five decades on, this must be called a masterpiece.
Having heard a radio dramatisation of the book, I was hoping for a tense phycological drama that would warrant the film’s description as a classic. I was disappointed: the film fails to deliver.