Union Station

Given that William Holden and Nancy Olson had also starred in Sunset Blvd in 1950, Union Station can’t help but be diminished in comparison. This is a shame, while Union Station never truly reaches the cinematic heights of Billy Wilder’s satirical noir about the ins and outs of showbiz, it does just enough to tweak the formula to make for a highly enjoyable film noir.

When viewed as a whole, Union Station tells a generic story about cops trying to outsmart kidnappers before it’s too late. But it presents a group of cops who are unafraid to fight just as dirty as the kidnappers, if not dirtier. To hear Barry Fitzgerald wrap his normally soothing and kindly voice around stone-cold lines enabling the possible killing of a suspect if he won’t talk is jarring. It creates a sense that we’re dealing with a truly dark world here, and we haven’t even begun to discuss that the victim is a blind teenage girl. That particular bit of the plot feels needlessly manipulative by using someone with a disability to appear extra helpless.

Where Union Station seems to stumble around is whenever it leaves the station and the accusations that the railway doesn’t want to be held liable so much their actions are only for show towards the romance between Olson and Holden. A meet-cute with the family is more distracting than anything. Sure, a minor break in the tension is nice, but seeing the blind girl’s best friend, and main champion for finding her and bringing the kidnappers to justice, devolve into girlish giggling and flirting is distasteful. This pandering to general audiences and final scenes sentimental dialog is supposed to give us a sense of emotional uplift. The grave circumstances and tense climax suddenly feel less enjoyable because of this mismanaging of tones.