Train Dreams (dir. Clint Bentley)

by Jack Martin | Nov 20, 2025

Certificate: 12A

Running Time: 102 mins

UK Distributor: Netflix

UK Release Date: 21 November 2025

WHO’S IN TRAIN DREAMS?

Joel Edgerton, Felicity Jones, Kerry Condon, William H. Macy, Clifton Collins Jr., Chuck Tucker, Paul Schneider, John Diehl, Alfred Hsing, Nathaniel Arcand, Johnny Arnoux, Will Patton

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Clint Bentley (director, writer), Greg Kwedar (writer), Michael Heimler, Will Janowitz, Marissa McMahon, Ashley Schlaifer and Teddy Schwarzman (producers), Bryce Dessner (composer), Adolpho Veloso (cinematographer), Parker Laramie (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A logger (Edgerton) contributes to a new railroad across 20th-century America…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON TRAIN DREAMS?

Let’s face it, folks: America is nobody’s favourite place right now. Even most Americans would agree that the country is in a freefall, consumed by hateful politics and flawed systems that enable the worst people imaginable to run it with almost zero accountability. The modern state of the country, and the darkly authoritarian path it appears to be taking, will likely cause most to think back on a time when America was a genuine land of opportunity, one where hard work and perseverance could bring about exciting changes for everyone and where the people who made it possible, even under the most devastating of circumstances, could thrive on not just their skills but also their genuine kindness and respect towards one another.

Train Dreams, director and co-writer Clint Bentley’s adaptation of Denis Johnson’s novella of the same name, captures that idyllic period in American history with a striking grace and an even grander emotional scope, in what it one of the year’s most visually striking and deeply effecting films.

Will Patton narrates the life story of Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton), a man living in the Pacific Northwest during the 1900s who since childhood has been a labourer of most trades, and is currently working as a logger for the company that is overseeing the construction of a new cross-country railroad. His life finds further meaning when he meets and later marries a young woman named Gladys (Felicity Jones), with whom he has an infant daughter and constructs a woodland cabin for them to live in. However, the demanding nature of his work means that he has to be away from his family throughout most of the year, long enough for his daughter to rapidly change every time he returns home before then heading back out again for months on end, while a profound tragedy ends up haunting him for the remainder of his life.

The beauty of Train Dreams is how it lovingly conveys this era of America without succumbing to full-on romanticisation. Within minutes, there’s some haunting display of racism as an Asian worker is suddenly flung from a bridge for seemingly no reason, an act that follows Edgerton’s Robert – who was unable to prevent his death – like a supernatural presence. Some of the other characters that Robert befriends along the way end up meeting rather grisly fates, from William H. Macy as an explosives expert to a religious guy known as Apostle Frank (Paul Schneider) who cannot seem to stop talking about all things Biblical, until he’s disposed of in a shocking yet entirely justified but of retribution. And that’s not even touching upon the utter devastation he goes through in the wake of a certain all-encompassing event that further rocks his world.

Based on these examples alone, this is clearly a film that shows how harsh, unforgiving, and often cruel the world can be, especially at this point in time, yet Bentley and co-writer Greg Kwedar (both of whom worked on last year’s equally striking feature Sing Sing) frame the bleak narrative as something that also shows the raw beauty of life itself, or at least the one that we are seeing play out. Thanks to some absolutely breathtaking cinematography by Adolpho Veloso, as well as a moving score by Bryce Dessner (who also contributes to an original end-credits title track performed and co-written by Nick Cave), Train Dreams applies an unexpectedly soothing lyricism to the idyllic woodland atmosphere that plays host to Robert’s emotional and profoundly human journey, one where the issues surrounding him aren’t ignored but also not the sole focus, while his more personal melancholia is treated with a fair mix of compassion and empathy.

There’s also so much to be said about Joel Edgerton’s quietly powerful lead performance, which more than anything transforms the character of Robert into a conceptually simple yet emotionally complex central figure. Robert is a man of few words, and when you break down his overall arc, he can come across as a somewhat passive figure among the ever-changing landscape. But with every single event he goes through whether it’s falling in love or witnessing horrific death or, in one ambiguous late sequence, encountering what could be a spectral vision of someone long thought to have been lost, you can see the burning sense of curiosity and optimism across his whole body, something which Edgerton masterfully conveys through the slightest of inflictions or delivery of what little dialogue he has. The actor has such a warmly commanding presence that he often doesn’t even need dialogue to leave an impression, as you’re so taken by his profound emotional journey that you’re compelled to feel happy when he does, cry when he does, and feel increasingly like a relic in a world that is evolving to such a degree that his hard work on the railroad will hardly be relevant in mere decades’ time.

This is one of the year’s most beautiful films, both visually and for its unwavering love for a time in American history that is far from ideal yet still filled with extraordinary hope and wonder, where even the humblest of lives can leave an incredible impact on others and, most importantly, themselves. If America could remember how it used to be this proud of its own raw beauty, then perhaps it can finally turn the tide of cynicism it is currently surfing over.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Train Dreams is one of the year’s most beautiful films, in terms of both its stunningly shot atmosphere of early 20th century America which remarkably refuses to fully romanticise this often harsh and unforgiving time period, and its depiction of a simple yet emotionally profound life that compliments the unwavering spirit of what America could once be proud of.