Von Ryan's Express (1965)

War, Escape, and Star Power on the Tracks

Von Ryan’s Express (1965) is a taut, thrilling, and occasionally unconventional World War II adventure film that combines the high-stakes tension of a prisoner-of-war drama with the pulse-pounding spectacle of a heist-like escape. Directed by Mark Robson and starring Frank Sinatra at the height of his cinematic charisma, the film rides a narrow but effective track between traditional war movie conventions and a more modern, morally ambiguous hero narrative.

Released in a decade when WWII films were wildly popular yet beginning to reflect more psychological and character-driven themes, Von Ryan’s Express stands out for its striking cinematography, complex protagonist, and thrilling set pieces. It is a work of muscular craftsmanship—unflashy but effective—anchored by one of Sinatra’s most unexpectedly compelling performances.

Plot Summary: An Express Ride to Freedom

Set in 1943, shortly after the fall of Fascist Italy, the film begins in an Italian POW camp where Allied prisoners—mostly British—are held under increasingly tenuous Axis control. Into this mix arrives U.S. Air Force Colonel Joseph Ryan (Frank Sinatra), a downed pilot who instantly clashes with the stiff-upper-lip British command, particularly the camp’s senior officer, Major Eric Fincham (Trevor Howard).

Initially perceived by his fellow prisoners as a defeatist and overly cooperative with the Italians (earning him the scornful nickname “Von Ryan”), Ryan gradually proves himself after the Italian capitulation, leading an ambitious and perilous escape. When German forces take over and re-capture the POWs, Ryan engineers an audacious plan: hijack the prison train itself and ride it through occupied territory to neutral Switzerland.

What follows is an escalating series of narrow escapes, strategic deceptions, and tense confrontations aboard the train as it barrels across enemy lines. The journey culminates in a thrilling, tragic finale on the edge of freedom—one that gives the film an emotional gravitas beyond its genre expectations.

Frank Sinatra as Colonel Ryan: A Flawed, Human Hero

Sinatra’s portrayal of Colonel Ryan is arguably one of his most nuanced and effective screen performances. Unlike the archetypal WWII film hero, Ryan is not instantly likable. He’s pragmatic, aloof, even arrogant at first—an outsider among a tightly-knit British POW group. His American pragmatism clashes with British formality and military protocol, and for a time, it’s unclear whether he’s a coward, a realist, or simply a man unwilling to play anyone’s game but his own.

What makes Ryan a compelling character is his evolution. He begins as a lone operator but ultimately grows into a reluctant, courageous leader. Sinatra, with his trademark coolness and tightly wound intensity, allows hints of doubt, frustration, and quiet dignity to emerge as the stakes rise. His performance is restrained yet charismatic, imbuing Ryan with just enough vulnerability to make his final act of sacrifice—stopping to help the last of his men, leading to his own death—both shocking and profoundly moving.

Sinatra reportedly demanded the original ending of the novel be changed to feature Ryan’s death—an unusual move for a Hollywood star at the time, and one that gives the film a tragic edge rarely seen in WWII adventure fare.

Supporting Cast: A Sturdy Ensemble

Trevor Howard as Major Fincham

Trevor Howard is the perfect foil to Sinatra, embodying British military honour and stoicism with a flinty resolve. Fincham is everything Ryan is not: disciplined, rule-bound, and suspicious of unorthodox methods. Their evolving relationship—from mutual disdain to hard-earned respect—forms the emotional backbone of the film. Howard delivers a performance of quiet steel, never upstaging Sinatra but adding gravitas and nuance.

Raffaella Carrà as Gabriella

Though her role is relatively small, Carrà provides a humanizing element in a largely male-dominated narrative. As an Italian resistance sympathizer who aids the POWs, she brings emotional warmth and a fleeting sense of romance and moral clarity to the otherwise gritty world of war.

Wolfgang Preiss as Major Von Klemment

Preiss, a familiar face in war films of the era, is reliably sinister and intelligent as the Nazi antagonist. He avoids cartoon villainy, playing Von Klemment with cold precision and tactical cunning. His cat-and-mouse games with the POWs provide much of the film’s narrative tension.

Direction and Cinematography: A Solid War-Time Thriller

Director Mark Robson, best known for films like Peyton Place and The Inn of the Sixth Happiness, brings a workmanlike but effective style to Von Ryan’s Express. He emphasizes clarity and momentum over flourish, ensuring that the film’s many moving parts—especially the complex train sequences—are easy to follow and loaded with suspense.

Cinematographer William H. Daniels (an Oscar-winner for The Naked City) makes excellent use of the Italian locations and the train itself, which becomes both a setting and a metaphor for the prisoners’ precarious journey. Wide-angle shots of the train winding through mountain passes contrast with tense, claustrophobic scenes within the cars, heightening the sense of entrapment and danger.

The use of actual locations and real trains (rather than studio mock-ups) adds authenticity and excitement to the action, with dynamic sequences featuring chases, sabotage, and a spectacular aerial strafing near the Swiss border that leads to the film’s wrenching climax.

Themes: Loyalty, Identity, and the Price of Freedom

Though framed as a high-octane escape movie, Von Ryan’s Express quietly explores deeper themes:

Cultural Clashes in Wartime

The film delves into the friction between American individualism and British tradition. Ryan and Fincham initially despise each other’s approaches to war, but their shared experience fosters mutual respect. Their evolving dynamic serves as a subtle commentary on Allied unity and the challenges of coalition warfare.

Heroism and Sacrifice

Unlike many war films that glorify combat and victory, Von Ryan’s Express ends on a bittersweet note. Ryan’s sacrifice is heroic but not triumphant. He doesn’t die in a blaze of glory—he’s gunned down feet from freedom, a grim reminder that war rarely offers clean, happy endings.

Escape as Liberation and Illusion

The train is both a vehicle for freedom and a trap. The POWs' journey is fraught with uncertainty, and each moment of success is immediately threatened. The film questions whether true escape is ever possible in war, or whether every path to freedom comes with its own cost.

Music and Sound: Tension on the Tracks

Jerry Goldsmith’s score is lean, militaristic, and appropriately suspenseful. It avoids melodrama, favouring rhythmic pulses and motifs that echo the train’s momentum and the characters’ anxiety. The music complements the action without overwhelming it, underscoring the film’s sense of urgency and danger.

Sound design is also a key factor—train whistles, the screech of brakes, the drone of approaching aircraft—all heighten the realism and immersive quality of the film.

Reception and Legacy

Upon release, Von Ryan’s Express was a commercial and critical success. It became one of the highest-grossing films of 1965 and cemented Sinatra’s reputation as a capable leading man outside of musical or Rat Pack fare. The film was praised for its pacing, intelligence, and gritty realism, though some critics took issue with its downbeat ending.

Over time, it has come to be regarded as one of the more effective and tightly constructed WWII adventure films of its era. While it lacks the overt spectacle of The Great Escape or the comic-book flair of The Dirty Dozen, it holds its own through smart storytelling and character-driven drama.

Its influence can be seen in later train-set thrillers and escape narratives—from Breakout to The Cassandra Crossing—and in its blend of action with character psychology.

Conclusion: A War Film That Thrills and Reflects

Von Ryan’s Express is a gripping, surprisingly thoughtful entry in the WWII genre—an action film with an unusually human heart. Frank Sinatra delivers a career-highlight performance as the flawed but ultimately noble Colonel Ryan, while Trevor Howard’s grounded gravitas adds depth and contrast. The train setting provides a perfect backdrop for escalating tension, and the film’s ending lingers long after the credits roll.

It may not be the flashiest or most iconic war movie of its time, but it is among the most memorable—a smart, suspenseful, and emotionally resonant journey through the grey zones of war, leadership, and redemption.

A lean, intelligent WWII thriller driven by strong performances, sharp direction, and a gripping sense of urgency—ending not with a cheer, but a poignant silence.