Are we there yet?
Much like actual train travel, In Transit, the collaborative film effort led by the late Albert Maysles, does, indeed, have splashes of beauty. But the bulk of the ride is undeniable tedium. Set aboard the Empire Builder, America’s longest, busiest stretch of passenger rail connecting Chicago to Seattle, with oodles of stops in between, In Transit is marvellous … in theory.
Maysles and four of his colleagues turned their cameras on whomever felt like talking between point a and point b. Most subjects are only seen once, and just for a moment. There are whiffs of a great grassroots oral history, but the package is so ephemeral that anything profound quickly zooms by. It’s as if Studs Turkel’s medium of choice were Twitter, not passionately developed books.
Some patterns emerge. People are looking to start over. Families are fractured and glued back together. Everyone’s eyeing a new job. Despite the glorious mountain views, only a few people are gazing and snapping photos. (As one passenger/philosopher with a drink in his hand puts it, “I’ve never been at a crossroads! Only people with rich parents can be at a crossroads! I don’t have time to be interesting!”)
This isn’t to imply the Empire Builder is filled with Guthrie-esque hobos. Most people spend their downtime pecking away at smartphones or laptops. Some gather in the dining car, where REO Speedwagon’s “Keep On Loving You” plays as it probably has for 30 years and will continue for 30 years hence. Riders talk about their lives, but I hate to be the one to point this out, rarely do they say anything interesting.
There are a few moments that pop. There’s one blessed stop at an Amtrak break room, where late night workers sit at a table with plastic food containers and yap about passengers, like a pregnant woman riding three days past her due date. Also there’s a retired military man with a list of physical and psychological conditions a mile long, traveling alone and taking pictures, knowing this will be his last ride. While In Transit is shot on video, and mostly through windows, there’s no way not to snag a few breathtaking views.
Albert Maysles, who produced this film with his own Maysles Documentary Center and Al Jazeera America, and died just a month ago at age of 88, was one of the leading architects of the art of documentary. But if you take one of his masterpieces, like 1968’s Salesman, for example, part of what makes it so special is sticking with individuals over long amounts of time. Yes, there’s tedium, but you leave that film not just as a fly on the wall, but with an understanding, a new point of view. I get what In Transit is aiming for. It’s the train itself that’s the character. But a train is, literally, just a vessel. Without a compelling human element, even at a mere 76 minute running time, you’ll still be itching for your stop.
