Film Review – Train Dreams

Train Dreams

Train Dreams

The beauty of Train Dreams (2025) is how it understands that life isn’t just about the highs and lows. It’s about the daily routines, the traveling to and from work, the mundane chores, etc. It’s about the quiet moments where people reflect on where they come from or where they’re going. It’s about joy, peace, tragedy, loss, and loneliness. All these pieces culminate into an entire tapestry of a person. So often we come across stories of legendary people doing extraordinary acts. But those we rarely hear about – those whose time on Earth come and go quietly like the changing of the seasons – are just as important and meaningful. This is a film of empathy. We are put in the shoes of a person we don’t meet every day and shown the world through their eyes, even if only for a short amount of time. 

Director Clint Bentley (who cowrites with Greg Kwedar adapting Denis Johnson’s novella) brings us to the wooded and misty landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. Beginning at the turn of the 20th century and into the 1960s, we follow the journey of one Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton). By all accounts, Robert’s entire existence is none too remarkable. He was orphaned at a very young age (he doesn’t remember his birthday) and grew up mostly on his own. As an adult, he found steady employment as a logger and railway tracklayer. Robert did not have many deep relationships, although he was blessed to marry a young woman named Gladys (Felicity Jones), have a child, and build a small home with his own hands. But due to circumstances I will not describe, Robert spends most of his life by himself. Every so often, Robert will dream about past experiences, the joy he once felt having a family and the pain of how temporary it all was.

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What I just described may seem small, but in terms of emotional impact, it is significant. The writing and direction taps into the narrative’s existentialism in striking fashion. We all want to feel like we belong, that our lives have purpose and worth, and that along the way we meet others whose companionship we cherish. Even though it is never said out loud, these are all themes that follow Robert. From a strong young man to the slower, more reserved years of old age, Robert glides through life as a participant and spectator. He sees the world changing rapidly. While he certainly played a hand in that with his work, his mind is always searching for some form of contentment and peace. Just like all of us, Robert wants to find a slice of happiness. He had it once before, and now he longs to feel that way again. Narration (Will Patton) adds context to the material without simply describing what we see on screen. The voiceover translates Robert’s inner thoughts, because he spends so much of the time not speaking. 

There’s a lot of Train Dreams that works tremendously. One of its most distinctive features is how certain events burrow its way into a person’s thoughts. The editing (Parker Laramie) jumps around in time, landing at certain moments that have left ripple effects in Robert’s psyche. As a kid, he watched Asian immigrants get deported out of town for no reason. As an adult, he witnessed a Chinese tracklayer, Fu Sheng (Alfred Hsing) get murdered by white men. When Robert asked what the tracklayer did to deserve such a fate, no one gave him a straight answer. These experiences have taken up permanent residence in his memory. Throughout the rest of his life, Robert is haunted by the image of Fu Sheng quietly standing by his side. Not only is this a reflection of the racism and bigotry of the time, but also how such experiences can shape a person’s very identity. Robert is clearly troubled by what he saw, and he carries that with him almost as a form of guilt for not doing anything about it. 

Adolpho Veloso’s cinematography captures some of the most gorgeous imagery you’ll see all year. Taking a page out of Terrence Malick and Emmanuel Lubezki, the visuals take on a lyrical, poetic atmosphere. The environments are just as important to the story as Robert himself. There are several shots that have the camera at a low angle with characters placed near the bottom of the frame, so that the trees, mountains, and sky overwhelm them in the background. The further things progress, the more fractured the editing becomes. Robert’s dreams are inhabited by flashes – shots of loved ones, of people he’s met, scenes of home, forest fires, his child laughing, etc. They all get jumbled up inside of himself. The visuals are accompanied by Bryce Dessner’s moving score to create a heightened reality. Everything is portrayed in a down to Earth, realistic manner, but it’s all seen from Robert’s perspective. As a result, there is a near timeless quality to the entire production – as though we were taking it all in the same way we would a folktale told around a campfire. 

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Joel Edgerton’s performance does a lot without having to call attention to itself. He plays Robert as discreet but full of feeling. His ambitions may be simple, yet he tackles whatever obstacles stand in front of him as best as he can. He is lonely, he misses his family but never feels lost. There isn’t a point where we think Robert may fall off the edge. He keeps himself centered despite everything around him being unstable. This includes taking on a litter of dogs to keep him company. Edgerton is at his best when he gets a chance to react to other actors. Whenever Robert has an encounter, it plays like a short rest stop on his way to life’s next destination. Whether it is meeting an older tracklayer with a penchant for explosives (William H. Macy), a dying man (Clifton Collins Jr.), or a forestry worker sent out on assignment (Kerry Condon), Robert takes a little of each interaction with him. Edgerton uses his eyes to convey Robert’s thought process, with his face slowly showing the signs of age as time moves on. This is a subtle yet effectively moving performance, keeping right in line with Bentley’s understated approach.  

Train Dreams is one of the best films of 2025. It is a tale of a single individual as well as an examination of America going through major change. Its power lies between the lines – its soul exists within the margins. It celebrates life in all its grand mystery: The Good, The Bad, and Everything In Between. Clint Bentley has directed a picture that is simply captivating. Every artistic choice feels right, every line of dialogue reverberates with spellbinding authenticity. And like its main character, we walk away with it lingering in our hearts and minds. 

A+

FINAL GRADE: A+

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Allen is a moviegoer based out of Seattle, Washington. His hobbies include dancing, playing the guitar, and, of course, watching movies.

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