A review of Unstoppable is an exercise in avoiding train-related puns. I will do my very best to avoid noting whether or not the movie stays on track or goes off the rails, whether Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington) conducts himself in a manner appropriate for a man whose been “railroading for 28 years,” even though he could easily blow his stack when Michael Galvin (Kevin Dunn), the railroad supervisor, decides to derail the train despite Frank’s insistence that the attempt will be futile.
Ultimately, Barnes is correct, but this moment is rather predictable – most notably because the attempt to derail the train happens with about forty five minutes left in the movie. However, this working-man-betters-his-educated-boss trope doesn’t kill the movie, and really doesn’t introduce an open palm to a forehead. Rather, Tony Scott’s (True Romance, Days of Thunder) pacing of the movie creates enough tension without hyperbolizing each moment to the point of prophesying an apocalypse in every scene.
Scott’s direction is the highlight of the film and sets the overall tone. While there are quick cuts throughout portions of the film to heighten tension – particularly when one veteran conductor attempts to slow down the runaway train by hooking onto the front and applying the brakes in an attempt to slow an 80mph “missile the size of the Chrysler Building” – they aren’t used gratuitously, well, not until the very end when Unstoppable unfortunately follows the trend of many action films, establishing a fine story in the beginning only to devolve in last fifteen minutes.
However, despite the last fifteen minutes of the movie, Unstoppable stays on track [editor’s note: Damnit!] entertains by utilizing solid acting. Washington is at his subdued best, avoids falling into a Pacino-like outburst (see Training Day), delivers lines with a stoic demeanor and a professional seriousness meant to manage a situation, not to exposit the potential end of the world. As Frank Barnes, he is rational with a focus on avoiding a chemical spill in Stanton – a city of 750,000 people – but every line is not delivered with end-of-the-world inflection, only those that would make sense to be yelled, like when an engine block explodes or a braking train is grinding on steel rails for miles.
Chris Pine also gives a solid turn as Will Colson. Much like in his interpretation of Capt. Kirk, he subtly fixes himself in the action, and while his character is a rookie conductor or “yellow vest” who is going through a potential divorce, fighting a restraining order, and looking at a potential custody battle – all of which is decently exposited but a bit too much for one guy to deal with in ninety minutes – he only delivers one truly cheesy line to Michael Gavin: “This is Will Colson your conductor speaking, we are gonna run this bitch down.” This line is delivered with about fifteen minutes left (see above), and the “bitch” in question is an “under power” train, one that is unmanned and traveling at full speed.
And this is the best part of Unstoppable: the fact that it is not Under Siege 2, Speed 2, or even Speed, which is not terrible, but survives primarily because of a supporting Dennis Hopper. As opposed to the other films, the train in Unstoppable is hurdling toward towns and wreaking chaos because of human error, not because of terrorists, hijackers, computer geniuses, men with revenge on their mind, or an anarchist trying to prove a point. Really, it can be blamed on one too many steam-cooked, wrapped-in-wax-paper hamburgers and too little exercise. That, and a little bit of bad luck, manifests itself in hostler who, neglecting to connect the air brake, exits the conductor’s cabin in order to manually switch tracks. Unfortunately for Dewey (Ethan Suplee), the throttle that he has set on low switches itself to high and passes him by. Initially, the train is a “crawler,” an unmanned train that, well, crawls, but as the engine accelerates, it surpasses Dewey’s stamina and he falls face-first into the gravel, having launched this locomotive missile on its course.
This moment could be worse, and it could be blown out of proportion. They could bring Dewey in and read him the riot act, which I’m sure would happen in real life, but we don’t want to see it, and Scott knows this. Instead, Dewey lies on the ground, the train heads out, and the next time we see Dewey, he is with another hostler, trying to chase down the train and enter its cabin. Instead of making this catalyst an overly melodramatic moment, it is subdued, and the importance is placed on what the train might do, not necessarily why it’s doing what it’s doing.
