Movies

Train Dreams: How to Survive the Silence (and Netflix)

Finding Peace in the Silence of Train Dreams
Veronica Loop

Let’s be honest: modern cinema usually screams at us. Between superhero explosions, collapsing multiverses, and algorithms deciding that if you liked one 90s rom-com you definitely want to see another (but worse) one, we’ve lost something along the way.

We’ve lost our calm.

And right there, amidst that digital noise, appears Train Dreams.

It’s not a movie that asks you to buy action figures or memorize the lore of three prequels. It is a rarity. A film that arrives on Netflix almost apologizing for the intrusion, possessing the patience of the giant trees that inhabit its frames.

Starring Joel Edgerton and directed by Clint Bentley, this adaptation of Denis Johnson’s novella is, essentially, an act of rebellion: the rebellion of moving slowly in a world that doesn’t know how to brake.

The Man Who Was Just There

The story follows Robert Grainier (Edgerton), a normal guy.

And when I say “normal,” I mean the 1900 definition, not today’s influencer definition. Grainier is a railroad laborer and logger in the American Northwest. A man who earns a living with his hands, who smells of sawdust and cold sweat, and whose life does not follow the typical “hero saves the world” arc.

His superpower is endurance.

Edgerton explains it better than anyone. According to him, we go to the movies to see versions of ourselves controlling the universe, being heroes. But reality looks more like Grainier: we absorb the world’s blows, we don’t control the universe; we simply try to stay standing.

Grainier is a witness. He watches the train arrive, the century turn, and the fire take what he loves, and he keeps moving forward. It is an “epic of intimacy.”

A “Punishing” (and Analog) Shoot

If the movie feels real, it’s because, well, it is.

Clint Bentley and his team refused to use green screens. They went to Washington state, ventured into real forests, and filmed under conditions the director himself described as “punishing.”

The lighting? The sun. And when the sun went down, fire. No trucks with giant spotlights.

Cinematographer Adolpho Veloso (from Brazil) employed a very clear philosophy: most of the time, nothing beats a real location with natural light; staying out of the way is the wisest thing you can do.

For the techies: they shot in a unique aspect ratio (a boxy, near-square format labeled 3:20). The idea was to mimic old photographs from the 1920s and leave massive “headroom” so the trees and sky would look immense compared to the humans.

It makes you feel small, which is exactly how the protagonist feels.

Voices of the Forest

Although Edgerton carries the weight of the film almost without speaking, the people around him provide the color to this gray world.

William H. Macy appears as Arn Peeples, a veteran logger who functions as the film’s ecological conscience before the concept of ecology even existed. He delivers one of the script’s best lines: “You cut down these magnificent trees that were here when Jesus roamed the earth, and it hurts your soul.”

Kerry Condon (whom you might remember from The Banshees of Inisherin) plays Claire Thompson. Her character summarizes the story’s melancholy with a devastating line about grief: “Just waiting to see what we were left here for.”

Felicity Jones is Gladys, Grainier’s wife. Her role is vital because she represents everything Grainier loses. Without her, his loneliness would have no weight. She is the warm ghost that haunts the film.

A Wolf Girl? Yes, You Read That Right

Here is where things get interesting and steer away from the typical historical drama.

The film, faithful to Denis Johnson’s book, flirts with the strange, with that frontier “magical realism.” There is a legend in the story about a “wolf girl.”

Grainier, broken by grief, comes to believe that a wild creature he sees in the woods is his lost daughter.

Don’t expect Marvel special effects here. It’s something more psychological, rawer. It’s that point where pain makes you see things that perhaps aren’t there… or perhaps they are. As the book itself says: it is a mystery that doesn’t need to be solved to feel real.

Music for the End of the World

The score is courtesy of Bryce Dessner (yes, the one from The National).

If you know his work, you know what to expect: music that doesn’t manipulate you into crying, but rather gets under your skin. And as a final touch, a song featuring the voice of Nick Cave.

Because if you’re going to make a movie about loneliness, death, and the woods, you have to call Nick Cave. It’s the law.

Why You Should Watch It (No Spoilers)

Train Dreams speaks of a vanishing world. It speaks of how we build the future (trains, bridges, industry) by destroying the sacred (forests, silence). It is a film about the Anthropocene era before we gave it a name.

But above all, it is a human experience. It is watching a man chop wood, build a cabin, lose everything, and keep breathing.

In a world where everything moves at a thousand miles per hour, sitting down to watch Joel Edgerton simply exist in an Idaho forest for nearly two hours might be the best therapy you didn’t know you needed.

As Macy’s character would say: “The world needs the hermit in the woods as much as the preacher in the pulpit.”

Perhaps we, from our couches, need a bit of that hermit.

It premieres on Netflix on November 21.


Quick Cheat Sheet (To Sound Smart at Dinner)

  • Title: Train Dreams (Based on the cult novella by Denis Johnson).
  • The Lead: Joel Edgerton. Plays a common man. No heroes, just survival.
  • The Format: 3:20 (Almost square). To make the trees look giant and make you feel tiny.
  • The Light: 100% Natural / Fire. They filmed it like The Revenant. If it got dark, they lit candles.
  • The Music: Bryce Dessner & Nick Cave. Melancholy guaranteed.

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