'The 15:17 To Paris' review: The film is is thematically muddled and dramatically passive

In the past four and a half decades, Clint Eastwood has developed a formidable reputation as a director. The exquisite handling of a range of subjects in his oeuvre — romance, war, thriller, history, biography and western — has intrigued many viewers.

It’s a sustained evolution of a director with extraordinary sensitivity, when the actor in Eastwood seemed more like a complacent clerk. Given this, almost every new Eastwood film piques curiosity and has become a ritual for movie lovers. But his latest, The 15:17 to Paris, has turned out to be the most underwhelming experience of watching an Eastwood film.

The film is based on the autobiography The 15:17 to Paris: The True Story of a Terrorist, a Train, and Three American Soldiers by Jeffrey E. Stern, Spencer Stone, Anthony Sadler and Alek Skarlatos. It captures the journey of three friends (Stone, Sadler and Skarlatos playing themselves) who rescue a large number of travellers from the abrupt intrusion of a terrorist on a train bound to Paris.

Almost every aspect of this film is clichéd and ordinary. You get the impression that it has been made by a first-time director. The narrative lacks depth and sensitivity, the two key cornerstones of Eastwood’s films.

Perhaps this story itself does not work in cinema. Adding some serious and heartfelt biographical sketches to an incident does not make a film of engaging quality.

Besides this, the selection of actual people to play themselves is a grave mistake. These non-actors lack the skills to portray the tension and cluelessness of their characters. Even though they may have lived the experience, projecting it on camera is difficult. This ride is not worth your time and money.