6.7/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 6.7/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. The Last Journey remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a weird itch to watch black-and-white British cinema from the mid-30s, then sure, go for it. It’s got that specific 'stiff-upper-lip' energy that feels like a cozy blanket if you’re into that sort of thing. But if you hate movies where people just stand around in corridors talking about their feelings while a train chugs along in the background, you’ll probably be bored to tears within twenty minutes. 🚂
Bob is the star, and he’s clearly having a rough go of it. He’s about to retire, which is supposed to be a big deal, but he’s too busy sweating over his wife. It’s a bit pathetic, honestly. You want to reach through the screen and tell him to just breathe.
The movie throws a bunch of oddballs onto the train. Some of them seem like they’re hiding bodies, others just seem lost. It’s a bit like Out of the Clouds in the sense that everyone is stuck in a transit hub, but here the stakes feel smaller, almost local.
There’s this one scene where a passenger just stares out the window for way too long. I think the editor must have gone to lunch and left the reel running. It’s awkward, but I kind of liked it.
Everything feels very claustrophobic. It makes me think of Frankenstein in the way it uses shadows to cover up the fact that the set budget was probably three pounds and a sandwich. They make it work, though.
It’s not as punchy as The Pride of the Force, but it has a certain charm. It feels like a movie made by people who were just trying to get the job done before the pub closed. 🍺
I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too harsh. There’s a quiet sadness to Bob that sticks with you. Or maybe that’s just the smell of coal smoke I’m imagining.