12 November 20 - 26, 2025 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents crew through to get this shot that’s just go- ing to be a piece of a dream sequence.’ But it ends up being worth it in the end.” Nature itself is a central character in the film. The towering trees of the Pacific Northwest are both a source of livelihood and a symbol of a primordial world being dismantled. William H. Macy, in a brilliant supporting turn as a philosophical old log- ger named Arn Peeples, captures this ten- sion perfectly. “We just cut down trees that have been here for 500 years,” the character muses to his fellow workers in the movie. “That’s a man’s soul, whether you recognize it or not.” One of the film’s most poignant themes is the interconnectedness of all things. This idea is articulated beautifully by the character Claire (a luminous Kerry Condon), a fire lookout who befriends Grainier in his later years. “In the forest, every last thing is important,” she tells him. “It’s all threaded together, so you can’t tell where one thing ends and another begins. A dead tree is as important as a living one.” For Bentley, these themes are not just philosophical musings but deeply personal. He recounts a line from the film that reso- nates with his own experience of loss: “It felt like no human had ever died before.” He remembers feeling that exact sentiment when he lost someone close to him. “I feel like the world is ending, and yet we’ve been dying and losing people for, you know, at least 50,000 years that we’ve been conscious of,” he says. This profound sense of shared human experience is what makes Train Dreams so resonant. It’s a story about the paradox of living a mundane, dirt-scrabbling life while simultaneously feeling a pull toward some- thing larger. Bentley sees this as a timeless human struggle. “We’ve always been, and we still are, kind of dealing with this feeling, trying to justify this paradox between living in a mundane world and also feeling drawn to something bigger,” he says. “We’re always looking around for some bigger narrative.” The film is filled with bigger narratives, weaving elements of myth and folklore into Grainier’s personal story. A great comet ap- pears in the sky, signaling the end of days for some. Claire speaks of ancient flood stories that echo across cultures, explaining, “It’s just the same story, different slants.” These mythic layers elevate Grainier’s simple exis- tence into an epic tale, suggesting that every life, no matter how ordinary, is part of a grand, cosmic design. Ultimately, Train Dreams is a film that lin- gers, its images and ideas seeping into your consciousness long after the credits roll. It’s a story about the marks we leave behind, the love we carry and the quiet dignity of a life. As Patton narrates near the end of the film, Grainier “felt that he was only just beginning to have some faint under- standing of his life, even though it was now slipping away from him,” toward the end of his days. It’s a film that demands to be seen on the big screen, where its lush visuals and im- mersive sound design can be fully appreci- ated. The film’s 3:2 aspect ratio and rich cinematography make theatrical presenta- tion the definitive way to experience this masterpiece. As Bentley’s filmmaking career continues to ascend, Dallas can proudly claim him as one of its own. Train Dreams is an experi- ence, a lyrical tale that captures the beauty and sorrow of the human condition with a grace and wisdom that is all too rare. It’s a testament to the power of a quiet life and a reminder that, in the end, we are all con- nected to it all. Train Dreams is now playing in local theaters, including the Landmark’s Inwood Theatre and the Texas Theatre, which is presenting the film in 35mm. The film will be available to stream on Netflix starting Nov. 21. Courtesy of Netflix Joel Edgerton as Robert Grainier shares a moment of quiet wonder in the forest in Train Dreams. Culture from p10 ONE OF THE FILM’S MOST POIGNANT THEMES IS THE INTERCONNECTEDNESS OF ALL THINGS.
