Sundance ‘25: Train Dreams

Filmmaking duo Clint Bentley and Greg Kwedar are no strangers to giving audiences a glimpse into a world unexpected. In Jockey (2021) they showcase the deeply rich and textured life of an aging horse jockey in Phoenix, AZ; in Oscar-nominated Sing Sing (2024) they take us behind bars and into the dreams and fears of incarcerated men; and in the 2025 Sundance premiere Train Dreams, once again, we find ourselves in a new world, this time the early-mid 20th century life of a logger as he passively figures out his place in all things. 

In Train Dreams, Joel Edgerton is the soft-spoken and calm Grainier, a logger building the railroads in the Pacific Northwest. He spends his days as an old soul in a young man’s body, chopping down trees, sitting by the fire, and staring at the sunset. It can be a quaint life on the outside. But as we’ve seen from past work of Bentley and Kwedar, there is always more under the surface. 

Bentley (sole director here) aims for a Malickian approach to the story: extreme wide angles, microscopic details of the forest, an omnipresent narrator—but the film never suffers from the lofty philosophical ambitions of Malick’s offerings. Instead, Bentley and Kwedar craft a story based on the small moments of Grainier’s life, mixed with the utmost surprising moments of violent tragedy. 

The film sweeps through the years of Grainier’s life, as he quietly ages and the trees grow around him, almost as if he is becoming one of them. A solemn herald of time passing. A man on his journey to peace amongst the very trees he used to cut down for a few dollars. 

The film breathes life into ordinary moments that make up the meaning of one’s life. It’s a welcome reminder during these all too chaotic times, that the journey is not marked by the memories we often think it will be. It’s often the unexpected moments—the kindness of a stranger or the first breath of Spring—that can fill one’s soul with warmth.

Joel Edgerton shines in a muted yet deeply felt performance, his rugged features fitting right in with the mountains and trees around him. He doesn’t give any rapturous monologues. He simply exists in this place as time flows through him and him through time. It’s a remarkable achievement, to put an audience under a spell and capture what it means to exist as an ordinary person, like most of us, in a world that so often doesn’t know you’re here or won’t remember you when you’re gone. 

Bentley and Kwedar strike again, folks. They hit you right in the heart.

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