Quartile rating: 7/10 · 1 rating
A somewhat daffy book editor on a rail trip from Los Angeles to Chicago thinks that he sees a murdered man thrown from the train. When he can find no one who will believe him, he starts doing some investigating of his own. But all that accomplishes is to get the killer after him.
Silver Streak is a genial 1976 comedy-thriller best remembered for launching the Gene Wilder–Richard Pryor screen partnership. The plot is serviceable Hitchcock-lite — an ordinary man caught up in a conspiracy on a train — but it never transcends its formula and the tonal shifts between screwball comedy and genuine menace are occasionally clumsy. What elevates the film is the acting: Wilder is endearingly flustered, and Pryor crackles with improvisational energy even in a supporting role, their chemistry already electrifying. Cinematography is workmanlike television-era studio craft — competent but unremarkable, with the train settings underused visually. Novelty is moderate: the Hitchcock-on-a-train premise is familiar, but the comedy-thriller hybrid with a prominent Black co-star (for the era) gives it a distinctive personality. The ending, featuring the runaway train crashing into Chicago's Union Station, delivers a satisfying payoff but is more spectacle than surprise.