The world and everything in it is a miraculous gift. It gives and takes without warning, and it rarely makes sense. That same sense of awe and mystery fuels the enchanting “Train Dreams,” a beautifully distilled film about a changing America in the mid-20th century and the quiet life of logger Robert Grainer, played with remarkable gravitas by Joel Edgerton in one of his finest performances.
Robert is a small cog in an exploited labor force, spending his years building bridges and railroads during pivotal moments in American history. He watches the world shift around him, trying to understand it all before it passes him by. Even in the midst of hardship, there is a fragile luxury to simply being alive.
If that sounds a little Terrence Malick-adjacent, it’s true that director Clint Bentley, co-writing the adaptation of Denis Johnson’s novella with Greg Kwedar, draws from that poetic lineage. But “Train Dreams” is its own creation: a tender, carefully crafted film filled with ingenuity. The cinematography captures golden-hour landscapes, paired with a somber score and crisp, comforting narration that wraps around you like a warm blanket. It makes you want to step into the frame and see the world as Robert sees it.
An orphan from Idaho, Robert carries the residue of a difficult childhood. He works hard, rarely complains, and quietly absorbs the tragedies around him, from the haunting memory of a racist assault on a Chinese laborer to the fatal accidents caused by falling timber. At home, he has Gladys (Felicity Jones) and a baby who bring him genuine joy. Yet life moves so quickly that he barely has time to breathe it in. Each time he leaves home for a months-long logging job, grief hangs over him.
On the job, he joins men who have known nothing but backbreaking labor. At night they gather around the fire, trading stories from lives that feel half-remembered. William H. Macy shines as Arn, a talkative old-timer with fading wisdom, while Paul Schneider’s rambling “Apostle Frank” spins tales that border on the mystical. Through them, Robert confronts the coincidences and cruelties of the life he has chosen.
Both men meet very different ends, and Robert watches their personalities disappear into memory. He begins to wonder whether he is destined to become just another worn-down brute, endlessly chopping through forest after forest in search of some elusive meaning. That lingering question forms the emotional spine of “Train Dreams,” pushing the film toward a quiet appreciation of life’s smallest mercies.
This is a transfixing story about how quickly things begin and end, how fleeting our perception can be, and how memory shapes the journey forward. Edgerton, in nearly every frame, delivers a rigorous and deeply human performance. The film gently reminds us that even in the darkest chapters, beauty persists. The light still finds its way through.
TRAIN DREAMS streams on Netflix Friday, November 21st.