Night Train to Lisbon (2013)

And will see it again. It's a beautiful piece of work. Not an actor out of place, not a line missaid. A classic. Buy it, keep it. And remember that Fascist Portugal was yesterday.

Having just returned from Lisbon by air, I thought I should return immediately by night train, so I watched this wonderful film again. The film is based upon the brilliantly-plotted best-selling novel of the same title by Pascal Mercier, the pen name of a Swiss writer from Bern, whose real name is Peter Bieri. It is the only novel of his which has yet been filmed. This film is a complete and total success. It was directed by the Danish director Bille August, and the studio work was done in Hamburg, but the location work, of which there is plenty, was done in Lisbon with some in Bern (and I thought I glimpsed a scene in Peniche). The film contains actors from several European countries. The film is therefore what in the business is described affectionately (and sometimes derisively) as 'a Euro-pudding'. But this is a truly delicious pudding, just as good as any Portuguese custard tart (known as a pastel in Portuguese, where the 's' is pronounced 'sh' and the accent is on the second syllable; my Portuguese lessons are available at one million pounds an hour: any takers?). Greg Latter and Ulrich Herrmann did the screenplay. Director, novel, screenplay, and cast, are all superb. There are several excellent cameo roles by famous actors. Tom Courtenay, Charlotte Rampling, Christopher Lee, and Bruno Ganz are all scintillating, and I don't believe I have ever seen Tom Courtenay do a better job on screen than he does here playing one of the key characters when older. As for Charlotte Rampling, is there anything she cannot do? Really, one gasps at these old pros at work. And if anyone ever wondered about Jack Huston, here is the concrete proof that he is at the top of his profession, sheer perfection itself as the lead young man, Amadeu. But the film as a whole is held together by the main actor in the story, Jeremy Irons. I don't believe I have ever seen him do a better job either. When he was younger I occasionally found him annoying, as I did the one time I met him at a mutual friend's 50th birthday party. (I won't say who was the woman with bright red glistening lips and a practiced backwards lean when snogging whom he would not stop kissing in front of everyone, but I found it significantly slobbery.) But here Jeremy Irons atones for all previous annoyances by being inspired and moving. Frankly, he makes a better middle-aged and aging actor than he ever did as a young man. And he genuinely 'makes' the film. So hats off to you Jeremy, as your acting irons have never been hotter. As for the pulchritude contingent ('pulchritude' being Charlie Chaplin's favourite euphemism, by the way, so it has a cinematic pedigree), we have both the ravishingly beautiful Mélanie Laurent and the warm and beneficently smiling Martina Gedeck to stimulate all of our male hormones (those of us who have them), and to deliver superb and moving performances. Yes, this film has something to offer anyone, not least the intricate and emotional story. Also, the final scene is a classic. The story commences in Bern, Switzerland, where the author of the novel lives. Irons is a teacher at the university, divorced for five and a half years, demoralised, who believes himself to be boring (and with some justification), whose life is uneventful and who lives as a dry stick. He is walking across the high bridge at Bern when an unexpected and highly dramatic event occurs which changes his life entirely. A girl is standing on the edge, about to throw herself off and commit suicide. He saves her. From that moment on, nothing is the same. She is a mysterious Portuguese girl whose identity he does not know. He fortunately knows Portuguese himself and later in the film we realize that he can even quote Fernando Pessoa's poetry, which is my view is the qualification for being a true gentleman. The girl flees and leaves her coat behind. He impulsively takes the night train to Lisbon to try to find her. In the pocket of the coat he discovers a rare book of poetry by an unknown Portuguese poet, whom he also tries to find, as the poetry is so beautiful. He then becomes involved in an unimaginably complex web of intrigue and events of the past, culminating in the revolution of April 25, 1974, 'the Red Carnation Revolution', when the horrible dictator Salazar was overthrown by rebellious soldiers who stuck red carnations in the barrels of their guns. The story is extremely intricate, the pieces of a gigantic puzzle fitting together in the most unexpected ways, and Irons discovers, as a result of his spectacles being crushed by a motorbike, that he is not boring after all. The tale is uplifting, profound, and moving. This film is worthwhile for anyone.

This movie involves twin plot lines: Jeremy Irons' character sloughing off his boring his life in Bern, and his making connections among people that lived through a traumatic era of Portugaul's history; facilitating some healing and understanding among them.I thought Irons' journey of self-discovery was by far the more effective story line, though it probably took up less screen time. The historical flashback scenes and interactions with those characters in present time were interesting but felt forced. In essence, Irons unravels an entire web of intrigue by innocently nosing around an author's old haunts; doors open up to him and a long series of events/coincidences allow him to keep sleuthing. I suspect the book does a much better job at unfolding this part of the story.Nevertheless, the performances are strong across the board. There is real chemistry between Irons and his special optometrist friend, Martina Gedeck. I just wish that relationship would have been the major rather than minor theme. And, I really liked how the ending was left as an unanswered question/invitation...roll credits.

Don't be put off by critics who thought "Night Train to Lisbon" was old-fashioned, too talky and lacking in tension, because there is something unique about this movie; by the end, it's quite an experience.Raimund Gregorius, played by Jeremy Irons in his slightly detached manner, is a teacher in Switzerland. When he saves the life of a woman, she disappears leaving behind a small book written by a man named Amadeu do Prado, and a train ticket to Lisbon. Raimund becomes intrigued by the insightful writings of Amadeu, who has since died. Admittedly, all this setting up of the story is pretty contrived, but the important thing in the plot was to get Raimund on that journey to discover more about Amadeu.He meets many people who knew Amadeu including his sister played by Charlotte Rampling, always an intriguing screen presence, she still seems to get plenty of roles with absolutely no loss of mystique. As Raimund delves deeper and deeper into the story of Amadeu, and his relationship with revolutionaries during the Salazar regime in Portugal, he becomes aware that much is missing from his own life.Amadeu's story is told through extensive flashbacks, with younger actors playing the parts of the older storytellers - maybe it's this element that some thought outmoded. Flashback was a technique beloved of film noir where we even had flashbacks within flashbacks. The structure of "Night Train to Lisbon" is not unlike 1944's "The Mask of Dimitrios". Although the plots are different, that old film was also about someone who becomes intrigued by the life of another man, mainly through the memories of others. I'm sure there are plenty of other examples.It wasn't until near the end that I realised "Night Train to Lisbon" had similarities not so much to old movies, but to a much older story: Raimund is inspired by the wisdom and profound sayings of a man who seemed better than other men, who spoke out against evil, became a healer and saves the life of a man whom he had every right to think of as an enemy. Finally, Raimund's journey has become more of a pilgrimage, and through the inspiration of Amadeu, he develops a more positive outlook on life.Although not exactly blinded on the road to Damascus, Raimund does seem to have an epiphany on the train to Lisbon. I don't know if the author of the novel, Pascal Mercier, intended such a religious parallel, but the script would have been too heavy-handed for any of the characters to have made that connection; it has power if the audience finds it for themselves.If a movie doesn't grab me, I can forget nearly everything about it by the next day, however I must admit this one has stayed with me. It's a film that gets you thinking.