Before he made his mark with Monterey Pop and Don’t Look Back, legendary filmmaker D.A. Pennebaker captured New York City’s Third Avenue El in a vibrant, jazz-infused short film that’s as rhythmic as the city itself.
It’s Pennebaker’s first film and a high value per minute watch (at just 5 minutes 24 seconds!).
Enjoy!
Watch “Daybreak Express”
You can watch it by clicking the video embed below (it’s not a trailer — the entire documentary is 5 minutes and 24 seconds):
“The above “Daybreak Express” documentary is an extra from the Criterion Collection’s “Don’t Look Back” (1967).
Ratings:
- My Rating: 91/100
- IMDB Rating: 7.5
- Rotten Tomatoes Ratings: 68 (Users); na (Critics)
Release Date: The doc was completed in 1953 but not officially released until 1958
My Review of “Daybreak Express”
Buckle up for a ride that turns a simple train journey into a visual feast of color, rhythm, and nostalgia.
“Daybreak Express” was the first film directed by the legendary D.A. Pennebaker (who later did “Don’t Look Back”, “Monterey Pop”, “Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars” and “War Room”).
The short documentary (5 minutes) is a blast of New York City in motion.
It’s not your typical documentary. More like a visual jazz improvisation.
He shot the film when he was 28 and used his own money to buy the 16mm Kodachrome camera and film stock. He lived in New York City at the time.
The film captures the soon-to-be-demolished Third Avenue El, the elevated train that once snaked through Manhattan.
In those five minutes, you feel the pulse of the city in 1953. It’s all energy, grit, and movement.
Pennebaker’s doc is a love letter to an era and a mode of transportation on its last legs.
I love how raw and exhilarating this doc is. There’s no dialogue, no interviews, no narration. Just images and music. It’s pure.
At times, you feel like the subway is alive and you’re getting its perspective.
You can almost see the young filmmaker learning his craft as he goes.
The film opens with a sunrise, the titular “Daybreak,” over the jagged rooftops of New York. Then, the train arrives. Pennebaker’s camera captures it from every possible angle.
Inside, outside, from the platform, and even the windows of nearby buildings. It’s relentless but never chaotic.
Every frame is perfectly composed, yet full of energy.
The soundtrack, an Ellington piece also titled “Daybreak Express,” is the film’s backbone. It’s not just background music; it drives the film forward.
The camera moves in sync with the music, as if Pennebaker was conducting a visual symphony.
The syncopation of the jazz with the screeching of the train and the bustling city life is nothing short of magical. Pennebaker was known for his cinema verité style. But Daybreak Express is different.
And that’s what makes it so captivating. You’re not being told what to think or feel. You’re simply experiencing the moment, just as Pennebaker did when he shot it.
What’s fascinating is how Pennebaker managed to capture the feeling of a city on the brink of change. The Third Avenue El was more than just a train. It was a lifeline for the neighborhoods it passed through.
By 1955, it was gone, replaced by subways and buses. But Pennebaker’s film preserves its spirit. And there’s more than just the train here.
Pennebaker shows us the faces of New Yorkers in 1953. The commuters, the workers, the kids playing on the street below. It’s a snapshot of a city that’s always moving, always evolving.
In a way, Daybreak Express is as much about New York as it is about the train. The two are inseparable. The film also captures the grime and grit of post-war New York.
This isn’t the cleaned-up, sanitized version of the city we often see today. It’s dirty, it’s noisy, and it’s alive. Pennebaker makes no effort to glamorize it.
He shows it as it was, in all its unvarnished glory. One of the lesser-known facts about Daybreak Express is how Pennebaker edited the film. He did it in his tiny apartment, cutting and splicing the film by hand.
He had no formal training in editing at the time. Yet the result is seamless. The pacing is impeccable.
It’s a testament to Pennebaker’s instinct and vision as a filmmaker. Another interesting tidbit: Pennebaker wasn’t sure what to do with the film once it was finished. It was a short, experimental piece, and there wasn’t a big market for that.
But then, the film caught the attention of the Museum of Modern Art, which included it in a screening. That’s when Pennebaker realized he might be onto something.
What makes Daybreak Express stand out is its simplicity. There are no frills, no gimmicks. Just a camera, a train, and a city.
Yet, in those five minutes, you get a sense of the vastness of New York and the intimacy of its streets. It’s a film that doesn’t need to say much because it shows so much. As you watch it, you can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness for what was lost.
The Third Avenue El is gone. And with it, a piece of New York’s history. But Pennebaker’s film ensures that it’s not forgotten.
Did Duke Ellington Like It?
I had to look this one up. And the only thing I found on it was this quote from Pennebaker:
“ Daybreak Express was my first film and was based on a Duke Ellington record. I knew Duke very slightly through a friend and I showed him the film. He said, ‘kid, you can have the record’. In fact, he arranged with RCA for that.
D.A. Pennebaker from “Pennebaker and Hegedus: seminal figures in American documentary film”
Daybreak Express may be brief, but it lingers. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the most powerful documentaries are the simplest ones. Just you, the filmmaker, and the world as it is.
Thanks for reading!
Rob Kelly
Chief Maniac, Daily Doc