While in our youth, as we struggled to understand the puzzling nature of life, many of us likely heard our elders say, “You’ll understand someday when you get older,” advice that we probably tucked away in good faith for future reference. But how many of us actually came upon that promised understanding when we grew into adulthood? Chances are, many of us patiently awaited the arrival of such insights only to discover that said assurance about them never panned out as hoped for. In fact, I’m willing to bet that failed expectation happened more frequently than not. And, in this sophomore feature outing from director Clint Bentley, that scenario would again seem to be the case as the film’s perpetually perplexed protagonist searches for meaning. But, considering how frequently this situation tends to occur in everyday life, for me, the key question becomes, do we really need to see a movie that depicts this kind of all-too-familiar experience, one that many of us have already gone through ourselves? This widely praised character study follows the life of Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton), a logger who toils in the forests of the Pacific Northwest in the early 20th Century. Having been orphaned at a young age without ever knowing his parents, he’s always sought explanations for life’s mysteries, but they generally eluded him, even on into adulthood. And, in an era when the world was changing rapidly on many fronts, he longed for answers, though they never materialized, leaving him constantly wondering about his existence, particularly when he witnesses unexplained injustices, tragedies and personal setbacks. While it’s true that many of us can empathize with his circumstances, we nevertheless also can’t help but ask, “Well, who hasn’t gone through that?” (This isn’t exactly new ground.) In that sense, then, the film focuses on the yearning of a lost soul constantly striving for some grand revelation that never arrives, and it tries to elevate this notion to the level of something that’s never been conceived of before. Moreover, to emphasize the nobility of this point, the picture dresses it up with allegedly lofty voice-over observations that sound profound but that, frankly, don’t add much that’s meaningful or even interesting. The filmmaker also tries to cover these shortcomings with gorgeous cinematography and a capable lead performance by Edgerton (though, considering the admittedly less-than-demanding character of the role, that’s not exactly saying much). Perhaps the picture’s strongest (and most underrated) asset is its cast of colorful supporting players, most notably William H. Macy and Kerry Condon, though, regrettably, their screen time is somewhat limited. Given the accolades that have been generously showered on this offering, I find it disappointing that it fails to live up to the hype, both in terms of its cinematic attributes and, more importantly, the depth of its content. Maybe I’ll understand it better when I get older. But, given that there’s not much to understand in the first place, I sincerely doubt it.

I had high expectations going into TRAIN DREAMS, largely due to the heartwarming reception it received from friends and peers in the industry, along with some awards buzz. The film embraces 'slow cinema' at its most contemplative and dreamy, prioritizing mood and texture over a conventional plot. I'm a sucker for natural cinematography, and here the viewers are treated to pure visual cinema, capitalizing on the real wonders of our world with stunning static shots of sunsets near rivers and cabins deep in the woods. Even though the movie feels somewhat derivative and its trajectory becomes clear fairly quickly, it never drags or becomes dull thanks to the incredibly atmospheric score and the lyrical narration, which sets a poetic tone without ever feeling too heavy. At the heart of it all is Joel Edgerton, who delivers a career-best performance. It's a fantastic example of an "underperformance", a quiet display where dialogue is sparse, yet the actor transmits a universe of emotion, grief, and resilience exclusively through his facial expressions. It's a beautifully sad yet inspiring story about life, death, and endurance, sprinkled with surprisingly amusing moments of humor throughout the runtime. While I wish the film had gone deeper into some of its themes — specifically regarding cases of severe complicity from the protagonist, as well as the rawer edges of his grief — I understand that doing so might have worked against the dialogue-light structure Clint Bentley aimed for. TRAIN DREAMS ultimately stands as a testament to the power of enduring, proving that a quiet life is just as worthy of witnessing as a loud one. Rating: B

I sat in stunned silence when the film ended -- a silence engendered by the intoxicating poetry of this wonderful film that had me thinking of Whitman's ***Leaves of Grass*** and selected writings from Shakespeare. "All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity" -- taken as an elegiac meditation on the meaning of death seems to encapsulate the main themes of writer/director Clint Bentley's **TRAIN DREAMS**, based on the late Denis Johnson's novella of the same name. The film presents a simple portrait of a young man -- Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton) -- with no memory of his parents, growing up in the Pacific Northwest in the early 20th century, who eventually plies his trade as a logger working alongside itinerant, rough-hewn men. Merely existing -- Robert's life flourishes suddenly with meaning after a chance encounter with Gladys (Felicity Jones) -- as the two soon build a life, and family together -- balanced, uncomfortably, by Robert's seasonal logging work out of town. Not for nothing are the scenes with Robert's wife and child shot during magic hour (dusk — not dawn, a very deliberate choice) -- foreshadowing, sadly, that not everything beautiful and meaningful is built to last forever. Director of Photography Adolpho Veloso makes the most of these spectacular moments depicting man and nature sewn together -- using natural lighting and wide, rich shots. The woods are lovely, dark and deep and Veloso's work is beautifully reminiscent of Terence Malick's films. The score, by Bryce Dessner, lends a haunting, poignant touch to the grandeur of the film, especially in its quieter moments. William H. Macy's as the avuncular, sage-like logger Arn Peeples is the best acting I've seen from him since **MAGNOLIA** -- and my only hope is that his role is on screen long enough to earn some award nominations. Will Patton's narration is assuring, helpful -- but it is Edgerton's quiet, wounded and meditative performance as Robert that carries the film into greatness. Edgerton's knowing gazes into the firelight, into the sky, into the dusk, into the trees -- and, heartbreakingly, into the depths of his soul, is simply the best we've seen in his career. Bentley's film is a stunning achievement that may leave you pondering your own place in the universe... I grow tired of saying this -- but **TRAIN DREAMS** debuted on Netflix -- an inferior platform to truly take in the marvel and wonder of the great outdoors in this film.

This is one of these films that sort of washes over you, but it leaves quite an effect afterwards. There's hardly any dialogue of note as we follow a few years in the life of labourer "Robert" (Joel Edgerton) as he works wherever he can for $4 a day before returning home to his wife "Gladys" (Felicity Jones) and their baby daughter. Graduating from lumberjacking to railway working, he hopes to soon be able to afford to start building a saw-mill and spend his time with his family and working for himself, but during one of his absences a tradegy occurs that leaves him bereft of purpose and facing a solitude at his remote home for which he is ill-equipped. Whilst the human story is touching throughout, I found this more effective at mirroring this man's own development - and setbacks - with those of a nation coming to terms with industrialisation. His logging enterprises were always in demand to fuel the expansion of the railroad, the building of towns and the constantly arriving families who directly impact on the beauty and pristineness of the territory where he has his cabin by a stream. It's called progress, but is it? In some ways it's more like a documentary as we observe this man at work, at play and in sorrow - and it's also quite poignant to see just how these disparate work-gangs got the job done - ok, so perhaps not always so hot with the explosives - and then went on to the next job without neccessarily even knowing each other's names. Like any good observation, it's curious and subtle; it doesn't really tell us a story in a beginning, middle and end fashion, more it allows us to take what we see and extrapolate an whole gamut of emotions from these images. Edgerton is a natural here and both Jones and his silent friend Alfred Hsing also add a depth to the characterisation without the need for a surfeit of language or constantly moving cinematography. It's also another example of what can be made by a filmmaker who knows how to adapt a story without needing to take three hours to get there, and that's no bad thing either.

Such a simple but deeply emotional experience. The nature, cinematography, and quiet storytelling made this feel incredibly real and personal.