The Plot
Leon Kauffman (Bradley Cooper) is a New York City photographer who spends his time monitoring police scanners, desperately trying to get pics of breaking news for the papers. Of course, he longs to do something more artistic with his talent, and his girlfriend, Maya (Leslie Bibb), provides him with an opportunity to do just that. She gets her friend Jurgis (Roger Bart) to set up a meeting for Leon with hotshot art snob Susan Hoff (Brooke Shields), but when Susan dismisses Leon's portfolio for not truly capturing the city, she challenges him to overcome his fear by pushing the boundaries in his art.
Apparently, pushing the boundaries means risking his life, because when Leon returns a few days later, Susan loves the set of photos he's taken of an attempted rape late one night in the subway. Leon foiled the attempt, but not before snapping a few choice pics, and Susan wants to see more of the city's seedy underbelly.
Leon is more than happy to oblige, but he discovers that the woman he rescued went missing that very night after boarding the train. At first, he suspects the punk kids who attacked her, but when he returns to the scene another night, he runs into a suspicious-looking, suit-clad man (Vinnie Jones) carrying a briefcase. Later, when he looks at one of the photos he took of the missing woman, he notices that the strange man was on the train that she boarded.
Getting no help from the police, Leon begins to follow the man. His obsession grows when he discovers that the man takes the last train on the line every night. Leon begins to suspect that he's a serial killer responsible for the glut of disappearances on the subway system over the past several decades. Pushing matters, he even follows the man to his job at a slaughterhouse and becomes convinced that that's where he disposes of his victims' bodies. When Leon gets too close for comfort, though, he and Maya are drawn into the killer's twisted underground world, the extent of which reaches beyond anything they ever imagined.
The End Product
The Midnight Meat Train, based on a short story by Clive Barker, is ostensibly less of a supernatural tale than we're used to seeing on screen from the author. For the most part, the movie plays like a serial killer flick, lacking the otherworldly, surreal, often perverse elements of other films based on his work. This makes MMT more accessible than most of Barker's previous efforts -- and renders Lions Gate's decision to dump it into second-run theaters all the more perplexing.
What helps make the film stand out from the glut of serial killer pics is the direction of Ryuhei Kitamura. Known for a wildly kinetic visual flair epitomized by the cult Japanese hit Versus, Kitamura tones down his hyper tendencies for American audiences, but he still manages to make a bold statement with a flurry of inventive POV camera angles, primarily during the wild death sequences.
These brutal scenes on the train are the moments in which the movie shines brightest -- not surprising, given the title The Midnight Meat Train. Even before the killing begins, the sterile grays and cold blues of the train cars paint a barren landscape that generates a sense of foreboding. And when the killing starts, it's a grisly affair, with eye gouging, teeth pulling, decapitations and everything in between. Occasionally, the carnage is enhanced with digital effects that are a bit off-putting, but there's enough good old-fashioned corn syrup 'n red food coloring to appease the gore hounds.
Jones' burly stature as the killer is imposing, and his character, Mahogany, is worthy of cult icon status, with his crew cut, pressed suit and businesslike demeanor -- down to his impeccably neat briefcase full of weaponry. (His fave seems to be the meat tenderizer.) However, Jones is such a recognizable character actor that he ceases to be truly scary and borders on being oddly likeable, despite his atrocities -- like a steroid version of Charles Bronson in Death Wish. Cooper and Bibb, meanwhile, are solid as the lead couple, although it's hard to call either a mesmerizing presence.
Already knowing how the story ends, it's difficult for me to judge whether the film's ending works as a real shock, but Kitamura imbues the final moments with enough emotion that they work on a dramatic level that overcomes the potential for silliness. The Midnight Meat Train is, as implied, a ride that's not for the faint of heart.
