Night Train review – car-focused crime thriller looks to Heat for inspiration | Film

The plot of this trite crime thriller revolves around two women: desperate single mother Holly (Danielle C Ryan), who gets caught up in smuggling black market pharmaceuticals, and PTSD-afflicted veteran and FBI field agent Jaylynne Jackson (Diora Baird), who is assigned to bust the smuggling operation. The narrative crosscuts between their parallel stories, with their paths crossing only briefly at first at a petrol station. Later they have a sitdown in a diner to discuss their antagonism, which suggests writer-director Shane Stanley and co think they’re tipping their hat to Michael Mann’s Heat but with two women instead of Al Pacino and Robert De Niro. Although it’s an interesting idea, sadly the execution is dire, with cliche-riddled dialogue as cheesy as a packet of Kraft Singles, stodgy pacing, poorly developed characters and shonky acting.

About the best that can be said for this film is that some of the vehicle-centric action sequences are pretty good, as they ought to be since cars, trucks and motorcycles are very much at the centre of the story. Holly is trying to get into the Teamsters union by working on commercial shoots so she can better look after her ailing teenage son, and is meant to be an ace driver who takes part in desert drag races with her souped-up black truck. There’s a competently filmed sequence where she evades arrest on the highway during a smuggling run by turning off her headlamps and pulling in under an overpass to hide so quickly the cops can’t keep up.

But between these pacy moments there’s lots of Jackson moping about and hating herself for the crimes she has committed. Her anguish would be more credible if Baird had been better directed and not so distractingly dressed in ultra-tight tank tops, with long blond hair in beachy waves that looks like it was just teased up by a stylist seconds before the camera rolled.

The plot of this trite crime thriller revolves around two women: desperate single mother Holly (Danielle C Ryan), who gets caught up in smuggling black market pharmaceuticals, and PTSD-afflicted veteran and FBI field agent Jaylynne Jackson (Diora Baird), who is assigned to bust the smuggling operation. The narrative crosscuts between their parallel stories, with their paths crossing only briefly at first at a petrol station. Later they have a sitdown in a diner to discuss their antagonism, which suggests writer-director Shane Stanley and co think they’re tipping their hat to Michael Mann’s Heat but with two women instead of Al Pacino and Robert De Niro. Although it’s an interesting idea, sadly the execution is dire, with cliche-riddled dialogue as cheesy as a packet of Kraft Singles, stodgy pacing, poorly developed characters and shonky acting.

About the best that can be said for this film is that some of the vehicle-centric action sequences are pretty good, as they ought to be since cars, trucks and motorcycles are very much at the centre of the story. Holly is trying to get into the Teamsters union by working on commercial shoots so she can better look after her ailing teenage son, and is meant to be an ace driver who takes part in desert drag races with her souped-up black truck. There’s a competently filmed sequence where she evades arrest on the highway during a smuggling run by turning off her headlamps and pulling in under an overpass to hide so quickly the cops can’t keep up.

But between these pacy moments there’s lots of Jackson moping about and hating herself for the crimes she has committed. Her anguish would be more credible if Baird had been better directed and not so distractingly dressed in ultra-tight tank tops, with long blond hair in beachy waves that looks like it was just teased up by a stylist seconds before the camera rolled.