Stop! That! Train!

Stop! That! Train! arrives with three exclamation marks, a runaway luxury locomotive and absolutely no intention of behaving sensibly. Directed by Adam Shankman, this feature-length extension of the RuPaul’s Drag Race universe borrows the narrative skeleton of the great disaster films of the 1970s before dressing it in sequins, queer wordplay and knowingly ridiculous melodrama. Its closest spiritual ancestor is clearly Airplane!, although shades of The Big Bus, Mean Girls and Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion can also be detected along the route. The result is neither especially original nor consistently hilarious, but it possesses an infectious generosity that makes resistance difficult. Screenwriters Christina Friel and Connor Wright fire jokes at such speed that the weaker ones barely have time to hit the floor before another arrives, and the film’s finest achievement may simply be its refusal to apologize for being loud, frivolous and magnificently silly.

At the center of this chaos are Tess and DeeDee, played with enormous warmth by Ginger Minj and Jujubee. Best friends since their days at Train Hostess Academy, they have spent a decade working for the spectacularly unglamorous Stank Rail, watching their dreams of traveling across America slowly disappear beneath cheap uniforms and professional disappointment. When their employer collapses, they improvise their way onto the prestigious Glamazonian Express, hastily making their own uniforms and presenting themselves as emergency replacements. Their arrival is immediately challenged by first-class supervisor Amber, played by Brooke Lynn Hytes, and her exquisitely unpleasant assistants Ayshleiygh and Alli, embodied by Symone and Marty Lauter. The opposition between these perfectly choreographed glamour queens and the clumsy but sincere newcomers gives the comedy a surprisingly effective emotional structure: Tess and DeeDee are underdogs not because they lack talent, but because they have spent too long believing that sophistication belongs to somebody else.

The inaugural journey soon becomes a catastrophe involving defective brakes, a lightning strike, an incapacitating scorpion and a once-in-a-century Stormaganza directly in the train’s path. Conductor Davenport, played by Chris Parnell with the solemn absurdity of a modern Leslie Nielsen, is removed from action just when his expertise is required, leaving assistant conductor Cal and the two inexperienced stewardesses to improvise a rescue. Brian Jordan Alvarez gives Cal the vacant confidence of a romantic hero who looks far more capable in a uniform than he proves to be behind the controls, while DeeDee’s infatuation with him provides the film with some of its most cheerfully indecent jokes. Elsewhere, traffic controller Donna Dusk, portrayed with admirable exasperation by Rachel Bloom, repeatedly warns colleagues who would rather criticize her appearance than listen to the potentially life-saving information she is providing. The repeated question “Can you read me?” becomes an especially neat example of the screenplay turning conventional disaster-movie language into specifically queer comedy.

The emergency eventually reaches Washington, where RuPaul Charles makes a grand entrance as President Judy Gagwell, a head of state whose campaign promise was the wonderfully economical “She Fun!” Haunted by a railway-related trauma from her service in the fictional US Rail Force, Gagwell must overcome her past before her collapsing approval ratings become more frightening than the impending collision. This is where the film receives its most powerful injection of comic energy. RuPaul Charles understands that camp works best when nonsense is delivered with imperial conviction, and every raised eyebrow, elongated syllable and explosive cackle seems calibrated to bend the scene around her. Matt Rogers, playing the president’s ruthlessly efficient press secretary, proves an excellent partner, particularly during briefings where reporters asking inconvenient questions can expect treatment more appropriate to political prisoners. One of the production’s most revealing anecdotes is that the entire film was reportedly shot in only nineteen days; that compressed schedule can occasionally be seen in the rough exterior effects, yet it also seems to have encouraged the cast’s breathless, anything-goes momentum.

The passenger list doubles as a parade of cameos, and their quality varies considerably. Sarah Michelle Gellar is a remarkably good sport as a version of herself whom nobody aboard the train appears able—or willing—to recognize, turning celebrity irrelevance into one of the film’s best recurring jokes. Latrice Royale is equally memorable as Barbra, a former Stank Rail employee who inexplicably resurfaces in a succession of different jobs, greeting every reinvention as though it were perfectly logical. Missi Pyle attacks the role of an aggressively flirtatious divorcée with admirable commitment, while Lisa Rinna, Nicole Richie, Michelle Visage, Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Joel McHale contribute to the atmosphere of a celebrity-filled television special that has somehow escaped onto the big screen. Some appearances feel more like recognition cues than developed comedy, and the film occasionally appears nervous about allowing its principal queens to carry the spectacle without outside reinforcement. That caution is unnecessary: Ginger Minj and Jujubee are consistently more engaging than most of their famous passengers, and their friendship gives the movie the human foundation its avalanche of punchlines needs.

What ultimately distinguishes Stop! That! Train! is that drag itself is never treated as the joke. These performers are allowed to play romantic leads, fools, rivals, heroes and authority figures within a world that accepts their presence without explanation. That choice gives even the most disposable gags a mild cultural charge, particularly at a time when drag performance continues to be dragged into political battles far beyond the stage. Yet the film never turns its representation into a lecture; its response is simply to occupy the screen with confidence, humor and joy. The final third becomes predictable, several references are aimed so directly at Drag Race devotees that newcomers may feel left on the platform, and the visually questionable train exteriors sometimes resemble unfinished promotional material. Nevertheless, Adam Shankman keeps the journey moving, and the irresistible chemistry between Ginger Minj and Jujubee carries it across the roughest sections of track. It may fall short of becoming the instant camp classic its premise promises, but seen with a lively audience willing to laugh, groan and shout along, it is a delightfully disreputable ride. 

Stop! That! Train!
Directed by Adam Shankman
Written by Christina Friel, Connor Wright
Produced by RuPaul Charles; complete producing credits not publicly announced
Starring RuPaul Charles, Ginger Minj, Jujubee, Brooke Lynn Hytes
Cinematography: Luka Bazeli
Edited by Joshua Kirchmer
Music by Jacques Brautbar
Production companies: World of Wonder; additional companies not publicly announced
Distributed by Bleecker Street Media (United States)
Release dates: June 12, 2026 (United States)
Running time: 95 minutes

Seen on 13 September 2026 (VOD)