‘The 15:17 to Paris’ a Well-Meaning Dud

On Aug. 21, 2015, the world watched in shock as Spencer Stone, Alek Skarlatos, and Anthony Sadler thwarted an attempted terrorist attack on a train from Amsterdam to Paris. A story of incredible bravery and heroism and of ordinary people doing extraordinary things seems like perfect movie material—so perfect that it caught the eye of director Clint Eastwood. Unfortunately, “The 15:17 to Paris” instead challenges the notion that the big screen was ever the right place to tell this story.

'The 15:17 to Paris,' directed by Clint Eastwood. By Courtesy of Warner Bros

Eastwood pulls out all the stops in one pivotal scene: the attack on the train. The three heroes have repeatedly stated how accurate this recreation of the attack is, beat for beat, and the whole scene does feel incredibly authentic. Shot with steady and handheld cameras on a high-speed train, the attack is suitably chaotic, intense, and terrifying, showing audiences the real danger of the situation and the horrifying tragedy that could have occurred. He re-centers the narrative from the point of view of the three heroes, making the audience understand the adrenaline rush and think-fast nature of the situation.

It’s clear Eastwood knows that this scene is what audiences came to the theater to see because he cuts it up and sprinkles little bits of it throughout the entire film. These abrupt cuts feel like jolts, as if Eastwood were trying to keep the audience from dozing off because he fears that the rest of the film isn’t interesting enough.

Unfortunately, he’s right. Instead of one cohesive movie, “The 15:17 to Paris” instead feels like Eastwood filmed a recreation of the train attack and then tried to build an entire movie around it. Much of this is due to Dorothy Blyskal’s script, which constantly clashes with Eastwood’s direction. Eastwood has always chased authenticity and realism in his films. This one is no different, but Blyskal’s script can’t help but feel manufactured, in terms of writing and story. Because the train attack was an unexpected situation that was thrust upon Stone, Skarlatos, and Sadler, it’s impossible to have any sense of buildup to the attack throughout the film. As a result, most of the film just feels stagnant, with the three heroes just going about their lives and doing mundane things. Blyskal tries to connect the attack with the rest of the film by suggesting that it was fate, not chance, that put the three men on the train that day, but these hints are too clumsily written and blatantly shoved in to create any connective tissue between these story pieces.

Eastwood’s biggest gamble in chasing authenticity was casting Stone, Skarlatos, and Sadler as themselves. The three men really shine when they are just being themselves—saying and doing what they would normally say and do. It’s why the train scene works so well, because the presence of these men adds to the realness. But most times, Blyskal’s writing is so artificial that it requires these three non-actors to act more than they need to, and their inexperience really shows—it feels like they’re reading lines off of the script. Neither the actors nor the script are able to elevate each other. Instead, they bring out each other’s weaknesses.

It’s a shame that “The 15:17 to Paris” doesn’t quite work as a film because it’s incredibly well-intentioned. Eastwood honors the achievements of the three heroes with his perfect recreation of the attack on the train. But one great scene doesn’t make a great movie. The story of these three ordinary men stepping up to do an extraordinary thing is one that needs to be told. But this wasn’t the right way to tell it.

—Staff writer Jeffrey Liu can be reached at jeffrey.liu@thecrimson.com.