Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kayleigh Donaldson | Film | November 24, 2025
Clint Bentley and Greg Kwedar have quietly become one of the most interesting creative duos in modern independent filmmaking. Their introspective and highly humane dramas Jockey and Sing Sing were highly moving tales of redemption and perseverance, further elevated by excellent performances and intimate perspectives on oft-unseen sides of American life. Their latest project is another delicate tale of quiet lives defined by larger forces outside of their control.
Based on a novella by Denis Johnson, Train Dreams is the life story of Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton), one of many workers on the growing network of railroads across the West coast of America. All he wants is to provide for his family, but the seasonal shifts drag him away from his wife, Gladys (Felicity Jones), and their young daughter. His is an unremarkable life for his time, one of millions of men who strived for something beyond the stifling confines of a working-class existence on the margins. But there’s no reason a story so ordinary cannot be told in an extraordinary manner.
Johnson’s novel is a delicate and introspective affair, and director Bentley and co-writer Kwedar have translated much of that to voiceover, performed by an unseen and omniscient Will Patton. Robert is but one of many men who reshaped the landscape for a few bucks. He’s largely silent, meaning that Patton becomes the voice of his world, and many of his colleagues aren’t exactly chatty themselves. William H. Macy has a blast playing one of the few motormouths of the group. It’s a classic character actor scene-stealing performance, one that lingers long after his short screentime comes to an end. But the one silent figure who haunts Robert is a Chinese labourer who was murdered over either a misunderstanding or pure racism. His spectre is forever a reminder to Robert of the guilt he feels defines his existence on this planet.
The stunning landscapes of the Pacific Northwest, shot with hazy and gritty glow by cinematographer Adolpho Veloso, and its changing nature echo the ebbs and flows of Richard and others’ lives. Trees grow, they’re cut down and the land razed for the train tracks, forest fires level everything, then the ashes help the buds to grow. The cycle begins once anew. It is both the backdrop and the representation of Richard’s existence, a reminder that, even if you chop them from their roots, nature will outlast you all. It could be trite or an endless lesson to be learned but Bentley and Kwedar are more interested in the quietness of it all.
If Netflix were smart, they’d put some money behind a Best Actor campaign for Joel Edgerton. He’s long been underrated and his subtle but devastating work here might be too quiet for some. This is a man who is more used to being a spectator than the central focus. Yet even without the voiceover, you get everything this man’s going through thanks to Edgerton’s microexpressions and the invisible weight bearing down on him. That’s not to dismiss the voiceover. Often, writers and directors become too reliant on such things to fill in gaps in the story or emotions, but Patton’s all-knowing and meditative presence is as crucial to the film as Edgerton’s performance. Robert wouldn’t be so interested in telling his own story but through Patton, one of our most reliable character actors, he gets the eloquent recounting he, and so many others, deserve. While he is supported ably by the likes of Macy, Felicity Jones, and Kerry Condon, we know who the heart of this all is.
Most of us don’t get a happy-ever-after, but everyone experiences moments of joy and pleasure alongside those times of anguish. People will come and go from your life, but all will leave an impression. A film like this so easily could have descended into mawkishness or a self-improvement book club-style moralizing. There were moments when the voiceover veers a tad into overdone or there’s maybe one too many gazes into the wilds, but it all comes together so neatly and with such elegance. The ending is such an aching conclusion that it left my screening in tears. I hope Train Dreams is able to find its people amid a crowded season and it is own distributor’s mixed priorities. It’s not too quiet to dazzle.
Train Dreams is currently streaming on Netflix.
