Train Dreams - Sundance 2025
Film
A story about Robert Grainier, a day laborer employed as a logger helping to expand the railways across America. Forced to spend prolonged periods of time away from his wife, Gladys, and their young daughter, Grainier struggles to make sense of his place in a rapidly changing world. As his story unfolds, he experiences great love, unspeakable loss and unique bonds, on a journey that is both distinct and universal.
Directed and co-written by the Sing Sing duo of Clint Bentley and Greg Kwedar comes Train Dreams, a buzzy film out of Sundance that tells an intimate but epic story that broadly reaches to explore the depths of one's soul and the pain of the human experience. Adapted from the novella by Denis Johnson, the film is a philosophical period piece about westward expansion and the modernization of America that is juxtaposed against the destructive power and redemptive beauty of nature. There is both a bigness and smallness to the story being told, something that is both epic and intimate. Think of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and The Tree of Life, two films that likewise have impeccable craft and also challenge their audiences with meandering narratives and/or art house impressionism. Except unlike those two films, Train Dreams is a film I found less satisfying, something that is as narrow and thin as it is broad and engrossing.
SPOILERS APLENTY
Joel Edgerton plays Robert Grainier, a true-blue, blue-collar logger and railroad laborer who lives a simple life of hermitage in the vastness of the American West in the early part of the 20th century. Grainer works in a dangerous trade done by hand and requires the strength and energy of younger men - you know what they say, no country for old men. He works onsite for seasonal work until he moves on to the next job. He lives a quiet but happy life of solitude. That is until he meets his Gladys, the woman who will soon become his beloved wife (Felicity Jones) and mother of his child. Together they build a life together, away from the noise in the quiet of the woods, away from the dangers of the industrial world and left in the peaceful quiet of nature. Coming back from what was intended to be his last job as a logger, Robert is faced with what can only be described as unimaginable and inescapable grief. A massive wildfire has completely consumed the valley where he and his family lives, destroying his cabin and leaving his wife and daughter nowhere to be found. The back half of the film is about how Robert manages to survive and carry on, even in the face of his immense trauma and loss. It is about him struggling to find and gradually discovering his way through the ever-changing world around him.
While I have my doubts about the film, I'd be ignorant to deny or dismiss this film's stunning visual imagery and its below-the-line achievements. The amazing cinematography from Adolpho Veloso perfectly captures the vastness of the natural world Grainier is living in and also at odds against; the long, wide shots of the breathtaking locations are easy to get swept up in, especially on the big screen. The score from Bryce Dessner is appropriately moody and manages to somehow feel contemporary and timeless. Even the voiceover by Will Patton (who I later found out also narrated the audiobook), which did feel like a storytelling crutch at times, helped reel in and reframe the story for the audience to keep everything moving forward.
Unfortunately, I still found myself on the outside looking in on this one. I'll try my best to describe my hesitation - and maybe I should start by admitting that there was just something off about the way the film made me feel. I certainly could connect with Robert's story arc and the pain and loneliness which he is forced to live through - I'm not some heartless bastard. I'm not sure how to exactly pinpoint my skepticism; it's not that the film doesn't coalesce, but I just wasn't really buying what it was selling. Maybe it's that I really felt the runtime as my attention and interest slowly waned. And that's not to say directly that the film was "too slow" or "underwritten," though there is certainly some truth in both of those criticisms.
I suppose my biggest issue with the film is the emotional disconnect I had with its characters and to its themes. To be clear, that isn't to say the performances were bad, because they were not. Edgerton is well-suited to this part - he is stiff and rigid but also vulnerable and evocative. Jones makes her mark even though she doesn't have much to do with limited screen time, and the supporting performances, specifically from William H. Macy and Kerry Condon, are memorable and provide a welcome jolt of energy. What might be holding back my enthusiasm is that the balance between the film's style and substance was off. Maybe my issue with the film is that it felt less like a tasteful homage and more like a hollow imitation of other art films that pursue similar emotionally rich and narratively fluid vibes. Sure, the expressiveness of the camera work is inspired, and sometimes even transcendent, but it felt too contrived to be compared to Lubezki and too derivative to be reminiscent of Deakins. There's a fine line between homage and imitation, and this felt less like it was in conversation with these artists and more like mimicry.
Since seeing the film, I've read that the novella is in a Hemingway-esque writing style, with an unobtrusive and simplistic prose and a closed-off sentimentality that manages to still be endearing. With that in mind, I can see more clearly what the filmmakers were going for, but ultimately, there's still something missing for me. Coming out of Sundance, many were quick to hail Train Dreams as a meditative masterpiece. I mean bloody hell, Netflix decided to pony up $16 million to acquire its distribution rights, meaning it will absolutely be a big part of their awards push next year (which is not even subtly ironic since this film should be seen at the theater and not streamed at home). I may be in the minority here and may even come to eat crow on my opinion here after a second viewing or more time to mull over what the film is going for. For now, I was left somewhere on the outskirts, impressed by ingredients but underwhelmed by the finished product.
Froth
Stop 3 on our Salt Lake City Brewery Crawl was at Bewilder Brewing Co, a brewery with a great space and lots of a great beer options. Let me tell you, this place was packed at about midday on the Saturday we were bouncing around SLC. I ordered the Vitruvian Pils, an Italian Pilsner was a little more hop than you'll get in a classic German-style pilsner. The brewery describes it as perfectly portioned, a sentiment I agree with. This might not be the sort of beer I have more than one or two of, or the kind I would pair with my dinner, but it would be a great "first beer of the night" beer, or a "let's have some mozzarella sticks and throw back a cold one" beer. So for that, you could do much, much worse.
