From that point, the tension is played like a masterbuilt instrument by a virtuoso. Hemmingway's iceberg approach to character definition (i.e. gradual and telling) provides its own tension as the crime gang members reveal their various instabilities and the captive commuters deal with the high likelihood of their own deaths. Meanwhile at the control centre, the hard boiled Lt Garber squints his way through the process of finding the flaws in the gang's plan. Then there's the chaos the action has made of the transit system and the wheedling politics of the city that would always prefer such annoyances could be wiped off the table without consequence.
These things compound to deliver a solid picture puzzle of life in the big city and what we make of it when the boundaries of its civilisation are exposed. This happens to varying degrees whenever we have power outages or service disruptions through far less nefarious causes. And while we placate ourselves with footstamping whinges we allow ourselves to ignore what the act is telling us about our dependence on this vast Jenga pyramid of weak links. Add ill intent and it crosses effortlessly into the realm of evil.
This film depicts the panic above ground when the machine is kicked over, a sparking mix of violent wishing and thickening dread. Below, in the tunnel, in the carriage, the order is almost entirely maintained by the gang who need it for their plan to work. Their conflicts are the stuff of whispers and murmurs behind closed doors as they commit to the fatal despatch of their hostages if their demands are not met.
At their head is Mr Blue (all the gang have colour code names) who is played with steely determination and an intimidating military crispness. Robert Shaw was less than a year away from his opposite turn in Jaws as the salty Quint. Shaw was a writer as well as an accomplished actor and well knew the sinister gravity of his character (having significantly imagined an ex Nazi on trial for war crimes in Man in a Glass Booth). While he understands when his counterpart is joking he erases the effect with a chilling statement of fleeting time or carefully executed violence.
That counterpart, Lt. Garber, could not have been better cast than by Walter Matthau, the go-to man for burdened, wisecracking professionalism. Matthau, who was only three years past his already too-old casting in the blackest rom com ever, A New Leaf, seems comfortably precise in his world weariness here. He can deliver a withering frown through the phone.
No one is miscast and even the craven Mayor, a literally snivelling Lee Wallace, who initially considers non-payment is pushed too much. Seinfeld fans might delight in Jerry Stiller's Lt. Patrone as a much younger man.
The world of the crime scene, the train carriage is kept eerily warm in the homey browns and greys of artificial light and winter clothing. The contrast between it and the situation works its own tension. It is superficially the softly glowing sanctuary in the darkness of the subway tunnel but also a place where a mass murder is likely at any turn. In the dazzling fluoro lighted control room and frigid city streets, the panic is visible in the tiniest detail. Add the prevaricating city officials and the sense of collapse advances in perfectly measured steps.
Director Joseph Sargent brings all of the muscle and leanness of his then decade long career of television, action movies and social issue tv features. If you read his IMDB rap sheet he comes across like a jobber, the lows of Jaws: The Revenge but the highs of Colossus: The Forbin Project. If all of those were to be washed away as bill payment, this film wouldn't be going anywhere. If you were to define tough urban crime action from the '70s you'd only need to screen this.
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