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Train Dreams

  • patrickkok
  • Dec 29, 2025
  • 4 min read

Released 2025. Director: Clint Bentley

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NATURE IS ELEMENTAL AND IMMUTABLE. In contrast, humans are small and fleeting. In the sublimely beautiful Train Dreams, the juxtaposition of the two, contemplated through the story of one ordinary man, shows that even an unremarkable life conveys something larger when viewed through the prism of time. Train Dreams is cinematic poetry, a contemplative work of art, and the best movie I've seen this year. (See full list at the end.)

Adapted from a novella by Denis Johnson, the movie is set in the early 1900s in a wild, dense and majestic landscape that becomes an integral part, much more than a physical setting. The rugged beauty and shifting natural lights are captured in evocative cinematography. From centuries-old forests to ephemeral twilight, these expressive and meditative visuals entwine with the narrative to make you think it's the work of Terrence Malick. You might also think of Roger Deakins, Rodrigo Prieto or Emmanuel Lubezki; but no, this is the extraordinary work of Adolpho Veloso, a name to look out for.

This untamed topography is the entire world for Robert Grainier. Orphaned at a young age, the boy's experience of growing up without a family and witnessing the harsh treatments of outsiders will shape the man he becomes. The adult Robert makes his living in remote terrain as a logger and railroad builder. While his jobs require brute physical strength, Robert is also a man of sensitivity and feels deeply about his natural environment.

Robert is a man of modest wishes. He doesn't ask for much besides a job, a family, a small house, a veggie patch and maybe a few chickens. As a seasonal worker Robert is away for months at a time. When he comes home, Robert is at his happiest and most contented being with his wife Gladys and young daughter Kate. The little cabin they built together by a river is a patch of paradise.

The only dark cloud overhead is the memory of a Chinese migrant worker whose ghost continues to haunt Robert's dreams. As a man of conscience, Robert regrets not having done more to save his fellow worker from becoming a victim of savage racism.

Does Robert's sympathy for a foreigner whose language he doesn't understand reflect his own feeling of himself as isolated? It's hard to say if Robert feels lonely because he seems so at ease in his placid demeanour. What is clear is he's doing his best to live a decent and honest life.

When he couldn't find Gladys and Kate in a raging forest fire that razed their home into a blackened wasteland, Robert's grief turns him insular. His pain becomes unrealistic hope – maybe Gladys and Kate managed to escape and will return one day – as he rebuilds his home and waits.

As the years pass, Robert finds himself falling behind men who are younger, stronger and more mechanically adept. He takes on a new job in town as a freighter, but never far from his home and the solace he finds in the woods, still waiting for a purpose or some sort of revelation.

I'm reminded here of an analogy that our lives are like a train ride. The view outside our carriage changes, different people get on and off the train, but we alone arrive at our own destination. These passing passengers on Robert's journey include Arn (William H Macy), a wise and thoughtful explosives expert at logging sites who advocates the balance of nature; Claire (Kerry Condon), a widowed Forest Service surveyor who empathises with Robert's grief; Ignatius (Nathaniel Arcand), an Indigenous storekeeper who extends his friendship; and of course, his wife Gladys (Felicity Jones), whose memories stay with Robert till the end. Robert forms meaningful connections with every one of them, some only for a short while, their affinity enriching each other's life.

With the march of time come changes in every aspect of life. Robert sees the world shift around him through the years and decades. He takes a trip into the city and finds himself surrounded by tall buildings instead of trees. On the roads motorised vehicles have completely replaced horse-drawn carriages. In a shop window a TV relays news of a man launched into space. Robert looks into a mirror, first time in a long while, and realises how much older he's become.

The role of Robert Grainier is not heroic or dramatic but it is an award-worthy turn from Joel Edgerton, a most underrated actor overdue for major recognition. In a movie without a defined plot, or even inciting events but a description of existence, Edgerton makes an embodiment of an idea heartfelt, honest and relatable. Robert Grainier is a profound character only because of Edgerton's restraint and subtlety. You don't remember him for what he said, but how he made you feel.

Train Dreams is about space, time and a lifetime personified by Robert. He experiences love, loss, beauty, violence, happiness, sorrow, friendship, solitude and a silent spirituality with nature. The movie is not a celebration or even a eulogy. Quite the opposite, it shows how small a man can find himself, dwarfed by towering sequoia and the relentless tides of change.

Robert Grainier's life is plain and undistinguished; he has not achieved anything historic or significant and is only a blade of grass in the forest of humanity. But the fact that the man has lived and shared moments with others gives his life authenticity and meaning, even if it's only felt or understood by one other person – and that's enough in itself.

The message is not complicated though its depth will go as far as you allow it; and I believe the resonance of Train Dreams will only grow as we age, as our own train journeys hasten further into the shadows cast by the tall trees of time.


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The Ten Best Movies of 2025


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