I get it: Train Dreams is supposed to be a “quiet masterpiece.” But when a film’s idea of depth is watching Joel Edgerton chop wood for 90 minutes, I’d rather watch the wood grow.
The cinematography is pretty, the voiceover is poetic, and the period detail is immaculate… but none of that changes the fact that this is a movie about nothing happening. Felicity Jones and the supporting cast are wasted in roles so thin they might as well be ghosts.
Edgerton’s performance is all brooding silence, which might work in a novella but feels like emotional constipation on screen.
I gave it a 5/10 because, technically, it’s well-made. But if you value storytelling over stylish napping, skip it. This is a film for awards judges who mistake slowness for profundity, not for anyone who wants to be entertained or even moved.
