Based on the acclaimed Denis Johnson novella of the life of a logger, Clint Bentley’s beautiful and soul-stirring Train Dreams is one of the year’s best films.
Train Dreams is a film of measured, profound power. The life and death of Robert Grainier is a beautiful artifact of gorgeous filmmaking with a stirring heart set against the backdrop of awe-inspiring forests of the Pacific Northwest. Following a logger in the first half of the last century, it sits with the viewer, featuring an understated, resonant power. Clint Bentley’s adaptation of Denis Johnson’s novella of the same name (I’ve not read it, though I put it on hold at the library; so I can’t say what aspects come from who) co-written with Greg Kewdar, is a film with a deep and resonant soul.
It’s hard to put into words (though I will, as this is a film review after all), but something about this movie really struck me. It reached into my heart and stroked it. Train Dreams is so perfectly realized on every level. It connected in a way I would never have expected. It just feels right. Natural. To be short: Train Dreams is a contemplative cinematic experience.
In their Oscar-nominated script for Sing Sing, Bentley and Kwedar showed an astounding skill of character, providing a life in an instant. In Train Dreams, they do the same, now with Bentley in the director’s chair after Kwedar brought Sing Sing to life. The story of Robert Grainer as he lives his life and watches the changes around him as a logger in the Pacific Northwest in the first half of the 20th century (mostly the 1910s and 20s, with perfectly placed time shifts here and there) seems deceptively simple, but is far from it. Train Dreams is a film of quiet depths, with a strength of emotion, and is utterly soul-bearing, without ever feeling forced or false. It’s a film stirring with meditative truth.
I’ve always found Joel Edgerton to be an undersung actor, and as Robert Grainier, he has never been better. He gives a quiet, understated performance as a man haunted by his past and living through his present as best he can. It’s not a showy performance, but a powerful one. He’s a man of few words, telling everything through his face and eyes. What he can’t tell us is informed through the perfect fit narration by Will Patton. Many films falter with over-narration. While there is plenty, Patton’s fantastic delivery sells it and gives a distinct literary feel. Edgerton has an easy, natural chemistry with Felicity Jones as Gladys, the love of his life. She has a wondrous spark that matches perfectly with Robert’s taciturn nature, but without existing as a foil or device. I could watch them live as a couple for the whole run time. But Grainer has to head out into the woods for his logging and train jobs.
Good thing for us, he has a bevy of strong character actors to work with. A wowing William H. Macy brings a true soul as an ordinary man; he’s given some of the more profound lines and delivers them perfectly, embodying the old worn soul of the purposeful wanderer. Paul Schraeder, Clifton Collins Jr., John Diehl, and Kerry Condon make impressions for Grainierr, emboldening his story, reflecting, and building. Many of these characters come and go, often with a single scene, but the writing and performances give life and memory. All these encounters have meaning and character, and incredible humor. I’m surprised how funny the film was amid the loner men doing tough jobs. But like everything else in the film, these aren’t forced punchlines but natural extensions of character, situation, and circumstance
A film of incredible depth, it never feels melodramatic. It’s the small scenes of life combining to have a simmering power. There are Important Moments as well, of heartwrenching sadness, and great loves, of strong memories, but they don’t play huge on screen. But are felt accordingly to the characters how they approach their lives and feelings. It avoids clichés and expected story turns. Bentley and Kwedar (and I assume Johnson) avoid large recockings or obvious climatic pushes. It’s a quiet meditation on friendships and connections made, lost, and forever remembered. I’ve seen comparisons to the works of Terrence Malick, in how a story is approached, but also specifically how Days of Heaven is shot, and it’s rather apt.
On top of some of the year’s best writing and acting, it’s a visually astonishing film. From the first shot, it conveys something special. It’s one of those that instantly says “classic.” I’ve used the word depth a great deal in this review, but that extends to Adolpho Veloso’s breathtaking cinematography. The mentioned first shot, of overgrown train tracks leaving a tunnel, could be 3D for how lifelike and deep it is. Shot in and around the Pacific Northwest of the setting (like the thematically and tonally similar, and also excellent, First Cow), mostly in eastern Washington, with a few bits on my side of the state in Snoqualmie, the woods and hills are hauntingly gorgeous. The great expanses, the deep woods, the stark darkness of a campfire, it all resonates. I’ve never seen my state look this great on film. I’m so glad I got to see this on a massive Cinerama screen. It’s a pity most viewers will see it on their home screens on the Netflix release, as it needs to be seen as big as possible. I’m sure it’ll look great in a living room, but I can imagine some of the grandeur will be faded.
Train Dream is a film that speaks softly about connections, and it connects deeply with the audience. Led by a quiet, soul-stirring, due to be nominated, performance by Joel Edgerton, the astounding cast gives heart and soul to a gorgeous film.