Train Time was a relatively early release from British Transport Films, like
many of its productions seen first in cinemas and then available for
non-theatrical booking in both 35mm and 16mm form. Director John Shearman was
one of Edgar Anstey's longest serving collaborators at the BTF unit, and here
turned out an enjoyable film that illustrates perfectly the updating of prewar
and wartime styling and motifs to the early postwar era. As with so many older
films, the basic conceit is the playing of people as 'themselves' in a narrative
based on their typical daily professional experiences - but their convincing
performances show that non-actors were becoming better practised at this
(perhaps helped by BTF's relatively high budgets, presumably enabling more
retakes than earlier documentary directors could afford). Only one professional
actor is used - playing the suave, slightly spivvy 'Mr Calloway', a British Rail
middle manager prepared to work through the night to ensure that freight and
passenger trains run on time and that delays in one place don't start a domino
effect across the whole system.
The subject is very much bound up with BTF's modern aim of both explaining
and celebrating the new nationalised transport network, and the ingenuity and
persistence of those employed by it. The 'voice-of-God' narration is almost
exactly that: it enables the audience to gain a kind of omniscience, making the
connections between events happening simultaneously at opposite ends of the
country. The film's deepest theme is the interdependence not just of railway
managers, staff and trains but of society itself - with agriculture, shipping,
coal and steel all part of the picture. This is an inclusive vision, but also
one in which proper hierarchies are respected, as in the scenes of conference
calling between a senior British Rail manager and his regional subordinates.
The film feels more modern than its predecessors, partly because of its
glistening photography, and notably because of its light, imaginative score by
Edward Williams (a fine composer, whose underrated contribution to the later
documentary tradition is almost as significant as, say, William Alwyn's or Muir
Mathieson's had been before him). It adds zest to a well-crafted, involving
short film imbued with a commitment to public service. It portrays a Britain
well within living memory but so different from our own that Train Time could
almost be a piece of science fiction.
Patrick Russell
*This film is included on the BFI British Transport Films DVD compilation 'On and Off the Rails'.
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