The cult built around the late author Denis Johnson is rooted in a rare fusion of poetic beauty and raw, gritty depictions of damaged lives. Writing about hobos, addicts and the disenfranchised, Johnson gave lyrical voice to the United States’ drifters. His spare, phantasmagorical prose in works such as Angels and Jesus’ Son made him the laureate of literary losers.
But Johnson’s stories can be surprisingly tricky to hammer into movies. His own screenplays for the director Steven Shainberg met with middling responses. Alison Maclean’s adaptation of Jesus’ Son was a prize winner at Venice, but Claire Denis’s haphazard version of The Stars at Noon was roundly booed at Cannes.
In the months since its Sundance debut, Clint Bentley’s note-perfect film version of Train Dreams, a much-admired Johnson novella, has emerged as an awards-season dark horse. The feature, which has earned comparisons with Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven and Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate, was snapped up by Netflix after that Utah screening.
“I wanted to stay true to the spirit of the book but also allow the film to be its own piece of art,” Bentley says. “Johnson’s writing finds transcendence in the mundane: a kind of spirituality in ordinary labour, loss and endurance. That’s something I connected with deeply and wanted the film to reflect.”
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Bentley found the perfect collaborators in the Australian actor Joel Edgerton, another Johnson fan, and his fellow film-maker Greg Kwedar, (with whom he also worked on Sing Sing).
“I love the philosophy and spirituality in his work,” Edgerton says. “This natural religion that comes from the land and from hardship. It feels both historical and contemporary. The book explores man’s relationship to nature, the soul and our place in the world. It doesn’t hand you meaning, but it invites you to think about what a meaningful life is.”
Told over just 100 pages, Johnson’s “epic in miniature” is about a reticent, nomadic logger and railroad worker in early 20th-century Idaho named Robert Grainier; his simple life reflects broader themes of time, change, loss, wilderness and encroaching urbanisation.
“I loved the book partly for the same reason Clint reached out to me,” Edgerton says. “I’ve always enjoyed playing and celebrating quieter characters. So many film roles, especially in more commercial cinema, are loud and dynamic, which is understandable and exciting. But there’s something worth celebrating in the stoic people of the world.”
As Grainer helps lay train tracks through previously untainted wilderness, he observes both progress and devastation. His marriage to Gladys (who is played by Felicity Jones) brings fleeting joy and a daughter before a tragedy leaves him alone, semi-feral and tethered to the place the family once called home.
Warmly narrated by Will Patton, the decades-spanning film captures a vanishing American frontier. William H Macy appears as a grizzled explosives expert whose wisdom leaves a mark on the protagonist; Kerry Condon plays a widowed wanderer Grainer meets later in life, prompting a long overdue contemplation of love and loss.
It’s a career-best performance from Edgerton, who is seldom off the screen yet probably has fewer lines than in any other film on his CV.
“It was a challenge at first,” the actor says. “Robert Grainer’s inner life is vast, but he doesn’t express it verbally. The narration of the film helps; it supports the story and allows the audience to follow his emotional journey without him saying much. But once we were on set I found it surprisingly comfortable.
“I trusted Clint. And our cinematographer, Adolpho [Veloso], has a gift for capturing a character’s thoughts visually, so I knew we could communicate Robert’s feelings without dialogue. If I said too much it would break the character.
“When he finally does express grief, after losing his family, his first words are, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.’ That tells you everything. Later, when he meets Kerry Condon’s character, she draws out feelings he didn’t know he needed to express. It’s the silence that makes those rare moments of speech incredibly potent.”
In small ways, directing has definitely – and happily – made a difference to acting
— Joel Edgerton
Another source of regret for the haunted hero is the death of a Chinese colleague in a horrifying incident. Throughout Train Dreams, various accidents and the proximity of explosives recall an era of isolated, precarious and decidedly ununionised labour.
“That was one of the things that felt so timeless about the project – and, sadly, cyclical,” Bentley says. “The protections workers fought for over the 20th century have been eroded. Labour today is once again seasonal, nomadic and insecure.
“You could take a modern worker and put them next to a labourer from the early 1900s – or even a serf from the 1300s – and they’d probably have the same complaints. It’s tragic how little we learn. That extends to racism and violence, too – the same patterns, just with different faces.”
By any Hollywood measure, Edgerton’s career is hard to characterise. The actor, writer and director has been a Jedi farmer in Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, the navy Seals leader who raids Osama bin Laden’s Pakistani compound in Zero Dark Thirty, an imposing Tom Buchanan in Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby, and the voice of a canine police officer on the Australian kids’ show Bluey. Edgerton has also made a significant splash in such plucky hit indie crossovers as Warrior, Midnight Special, Loving and The Green Knight.
“Smaller films are all about rhythm, pace and momentum,” he says. “You have to be ready to move quickly. Larger films move slowly. The set-ups take longer, there are more takes and the machine is bigger. I actually love smaller films, because you’re constantly moving, constantly talking about what’s next. That’s the kind of film-making I grew up with in Australia, where you never have much money. We’re MacGyvering our way through a shoot.”
Born in New South Wales and raised in a devout Catholic family, Edgerton often characterises himself as a “Ned Flanders kid” from a small, conservative town. Drama school in Sydney broadened his worldview. He started his career in soap operas before following his brother Nash, already working in Hollywood as Ewan McGregor’s stunt double, to the United States.
He made his directorial debut with The Gift, a psychological thriller from 2015 about a married couple whose lives are disrupted by the arrival of an unwanted guest – an increasingly creepy presence blurred somewhere between hero and villain.
His second feature, Boy Erased, from 2018, was a moving coming-of-age drama based on Garrard Conley’s memoir, portraying a young gay man forced into a conversion-therapy programme. Edgerton also co-wrote the screenplays for The Rover and The King, both directed by David Michôd, and has produced films such as The Plague, which premiered in Cannes last May.
“It was a huge help having Joel’s mind on set,” Bentley says. “You inevitably hit moments as a director where you’re stuck, and Joel could quietly offer an idea that lifted a scene without stepping outside his role.”
But Edgerton is not, he promises, a back seat director: “In small ways, directing has definitely – and happily – made a difference to acting,” he says. “It gives me a greater appreciation for the whole machine. Hopefully, it makes me more punctual and less annoying.
“The first film I acted in after directing The Gift was Loving, and I was quietly obsessed with the lenses the cinematographer was using. But it’s actually liberating to return to acting with fewer responsibilities. Just focusing on one piece of the puzzle.
“Working with Clint, I could bring that understanding into small moments: being more helpful, anticipating what the production might need. It’s always a pleasure to learn from another director’s process.”
Train Dreams opens in cinemas on Friday, November 7th, and streams on Netflix from Friday, November 21st
