Train Dreams

Director: Clint Bentley
Starring: Joel Edgerton, Felicity Jones, Kerry Condon, William H. Macy, Will Patton, Nathaniel Arcand, John Diehl, Paul Schneider, Clifton Collins Jr., Alfred Hsing
Running Time: 102 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Clint Bentley's unforgettable Train Dreams is about a seemingly ordinary man plagued by the feeling something terrible will happen. Though he has a dangerous job, it isn't risky in ways we'd typically expect, even as death surrounds him at every turn, waiting indiscriminately for the next opportunity to strike. Without so much as a hint of manipulation, the film deliberately unfolds, and while hauntingly beautiful to look at, there's also a constant sense of dread hanging over the story that just won't go away. And it isn't long before we discover why. 

Its measured, evocative pacing may prompt complaints from detractors claiming the film "doesn't go anywhere" or lacks a narrative drive, but those fortunate enough to get on its wavelength will discover the most powerful of cinematic experiences. Based on Denis Johnson's 2011 novella of the same title, it features a protagonist who could easily represent the hundreds of thousands who worked, lived and struggled to survive in a previous era, only to be forgotten by history. But through him, Bentley's able to show how everyone's stories and contributions can carry over generations, whether they're openly acknowledged or not.  

It's the start of the twentieth century when orphaned child Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton) arrives in Idaho on the Great Northern Railway, eventually dropping out of school to work as a railroad laborer. But his fortunes change when he meets Gladys Olding (Felicity Jones) at church and they form an instant connection, marrying and settling in a riverside log cabin with new baby daughter Kate. 

When Robert takes a construction job with the Spokane International Railway, he's not just dismayed by long stretches away from his family, but traumatized after watching the brutal, senseless murder of a Chinese crew member (Alfred Hsing). Haunted by nightmarish visions of the immigrant, he takes up seasonal logging work, which exposes him to colorful personalities like ornery fellow logger Arn Peeples (William H. Macy). Witnessing further tragedy on the job and facing financial hardship, Robert makes plans with Gladys to build a lumber mill and work closer to home. But the worst still awaits, unexpectedly altering his life's trajectory.

A character study from birth to death, Bentley's script (co-written with Greg Kwedar) and direction is effortless in capturing the serene rhythms of everyday, whether that's scenes of Robert and Gladys marking the location of their future home or the inescapable darkness that descends upon him in the film's second half. It's an event of such magnitude that it doesn't seem real for a shattered Robert who's constantly alone, regardless of whether he has any company. And even in the few precious moments he's able to appreciate what surrounds him, he sees a world he no longer recognizes or fits into.

Edgerton delivers the best work of his career, carrying lengthy, languid sequences while silently registering the emotional agony across Robert's bearded, aging face. When given a screen partner to bounce off or react to, he still manages to convey a sense of complete isolation, becoming this withdrawn observer to his own existence. But if the literary voiceover is correct in assuming the best anyone can hope for is to be remembered, there's still more than a few people willing to vouch for him. 

Most memorable is the gruff, sarcastic Arn, who's played by an unrecognizable William H. Macy in a transcendent performance that's short on minutes but immeasurable in impact. Hiding behind a thick, gray mustache, smoking his pipe and speaking with a distinctive backwoods drawl, he's a brutally honest storyteller with the heart of a philosopher. And while a whole separate film could focus entirely on him, that would undermine his primary purpose as the kind of kooky, fascinating character who exits our lives as quickly as he appears, leaving behind a lasting impression along with some indispensable nuggets of wisdom.  

Time stands still as Robert attempts to make sense of it all, sleeping in the rain while tormented by his own guilt at being unable to stop the unstoppable. Sympathetic shop owner Ignatius (Nathaniel Arcand), scrapes the logger up at his lowest, helping him reenter a society far different than anything he's known. Faced with the cruel reality his logging days have passed, he'll find work as a local carriage driver, meeting a kind free spirit in Forest Service surveyor Claire (Kerry Condon). 

Eerily invoking a great American novel, Patton's narration is soothing, unobtrusive and plain spoken all at once, as if hearing an echo from the distant past. And in painting a vivid portrait of the Pacific Northwest with natural light, Adolpho Veloso's cinematography evokes memory and nostalgia that's only accentuated by a hypnotizing score from The National's Bryce Dessner. All these elements converge to create an ethereal aesthetic that earns justifiable comparisons to Terrence Malik's Days of Heaven and The Tree of Life. 

Despite many deserved accolades, Bentley's film has managed to fly under the radar in the midst of showier competition, which isn't an indicator of its quality. If anything, a muted reception is more appropriately aligned with the contemplative journey depicted on screen. Quietly anchored by an actor who hasn't gotten nearly enough accolades, it feels like a micro masterpiece observed over a single lifetime and somehow squeezed into 102 minutes. But what a trip it is. Filled with joy, despair, hope and tragedy, the film's final few minutes hit hard, lingering in our minds long after the credits roll.