Classic Horrors Club

Researching Track 29 (1988), I learned a new subcategory of film: “Oedipal drama.” The meaning is what you’d think. It’s related to the “Oedipus complex” which, according to brittanica.com, is a “a desire for sexual involvement with the parent of the opposite sex and a sense of rivalry with the parent of the same sex.” Many movies have a hint of the Oedipus complex, but few dive into it as deeply as Track 29. For some people, it will cause a sense of discomfort, as I’m sure director Nicolas Roeg wanted.

Linda Henry (Theresa Russell) is a restless housewife who desperately wants a baby. Throughout the course of the film, we learn that she was raped at the age of 15 and had a baby that was taken from her. Her husband, Henry (Christopher Llyod) is a geriatric physician who cares only about model trains and his nurse, Nurse Stein (Sandra Bernhard.) He’s either oblivious or disinterested in Linda’s desires, which further fuels her growing anxiety, not only about the baby, but about life itself.

About the time tensions are rising, young Martin (Gary Oldman) hitchhikes into town looking for… his mother. He walks into a local diner, sees Linda and her friend, Arlanda (Colleen Camp), and joins them at their table. It’s not revealed at this point, but while Martin and Linda sense some kind of connection, it’s clear to us that he is her son. When he figures it out, he suddenly appears, sometimes literally, at her house, and inserts himself into her life.

It’s here that things get icky. Martin and Linda become a little too close. He’s apparently insane and she’s obviously using him to fill holes in her relationship with Henry. It’s after this that things also get a little abstract. What is really happening? Is Martin destroying Henry’s elaborate train set that occupies the entire upper floor of the house, or is Linda fantasizing about it? It feels like Linda is slipping further into madness and she’s dragging us with her.

Track 29 has all the characteristics of a thriller but plays mostly like a straight drama (and sometimes even a dark comedy.) I assure you, though, it escalates to something horrific. It’s hard to say I “enjoyed” it, but I did appreciate it. It was adapted by Dennis Potter from his earlier television play, Schmoedipus (1974), just as Pennies from Heaven and Brimstone & Treacle both were. Track 29 blends the fantasy and reality of Pennies from Heaven (1981) but takes a step back from the purposeful thrills of Brimstone & Treacle (1982.)