The Story Behind Train Dreams’ Tale of a Man Left Behind by American Progress

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Set in the forests of northern Idaho in 1917, the film Train Dreams, adapted from a story by Denis Johnson, follows Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton), a reserved and bearded worker who drifts between jobs, keeping him separated from his family. He helps build a bridge intended to shorten the Spokane International Railroad by eleven miles. The powerful steam trains racing through the landscape – tunnels, canyons, and forests – become a haunting symbol of modern advancement for Grainier. Throughout his life, he exists on the fringes of a rapidly changing America, overwhelmed by its speed and finding only limited comfort in the natural beauty of the Northwest, preferring the company of trees and streams to people.

Grainier spends his life surrounded by dangerous work and witnesses countless deaths – from accidents with falling trees to violence and prejudice. He builds a home for his family, loses it all to a fire, and rebuilds, ultimately living out his days alone. These fleeting moments of connection – with fortune, companionship, love, and loss – shape his life, leading him to a quiet acceptance of his grief and a feeling of being disconnected from a changing world.

The film Train Dreams begins with a voiceover stating, “There were once passageways to the old way… you can still feel the echo of it.” This idea of a world neatly packed away, like a rolled-up scroll, first appeared in the author’s earlier work, Jesus’ Son. Before becoming a film directed by Clint Bentley (Jockey), Train Dreams was originally published as a short story in The Paris Review in 2002, and later expanded into a novella in 2011. In just over 100 pages, the novella weaves together small scenes from the quietly moving life of a man named Grainier, focusing on themes of love, work, and loss. Johnson’s writing style is simple and direct, using a detached narrator that allows Grainier’s inner thoughts and concerns to subtly emerge. This approach creates a close connection with the reader, despite Grainier being a man of few words. The title Train Dreams could just as easily be Plain Dreams, capturing the blend of profound questions and everyday experiences that define Grainier’s humble, resilient, and wounded existence.

Reading Train Dreams doesn’t take much more time than watching the film adaptation, but books allow for a deeper exploration of thoughts and viewpoints than film usually can. Even the filmmaker, Bentley, acknowledges this. A fan of both the book and its author, he worked hard to translate the story to the screen. As he explained in Netflix’s promotional materials, the book’s structure—built around fragmented memories—presented a challenge. He needed to shape the story for film without making it overly long or sacrificing the book’s natural, free-flowing narrative style, which he found so appealing.

Smoothing over moral gray areas

Even though the movie closely follows Johnson’s story, the novella is structured very differently. Bentley’s film tells the story in a straightforward, chronological way, with only brief flashbacks or flashforwards appearing as quick montages—almost like someone quickly summarizing a life, not necessarily from their own perspective. The film quickly covers Grainier’s life—being sent to live with relatives in Idaho as an orphan, witnessing the deportation of Chinese families, and giving a dying man water from his boot. While this last event appears in both versions, the film simplifies it. In the book, this encounter deeply affects Grainier, as the dying man confesses to terrible crimes—sexually abusing his niece, who became pregnant and was killed by her father. Grainier is haunted by the guilt of leaving the man to die alone, and this guilt about violence becomes a central theme. In the film, however, the dying man reveals nothing of this.

Bentley and Kwedar repeatedly soften the moral complexities present in Johnson’s book. For example, in the story’s beginning, Grainier initially helps his colleagues physically abuse a Chinese worker who is wrongly accused of theft. However, he pulls back before they actually throw the man off the bridge. This shows Grainier lacks strong moral principles, and he’s haunted by the fear that the worker cursed him for the attempted attack. In Bentley’s film adaptation, the Chinese worker is killed, but Grainier isn’t involved; he weakly questions the attackers about the victim’s supposed crime.

Throughout the movie, Grainier is constantly tormented by the ghost of the man he wronged, who appears whenever Grainier feels guilty about the unfairness of American society as it defines its values. The filmmaker, Bentley, faithfully recreated this haunting – and Grainier’s recurring visions of the man’s face – directly from the original story.

Sociopolitical tensions brought to the screen

Bentley’s Train Dreams has been adapted with some changes to the original story. While the character of Claire Thompson, a resilient widow, remains central to both versions, her situation is altered. In both the book and the film, Claire and Grainier first encounter each other when Grainier is traveling through Idaho’s forests with a horse and wagon. However, the film portrays Claire (played by Kerry Condon) as a forest service employee working in a remote fire tower. In the original novella, she is traveling with her children and possessions, and she faces unwanted attention from Grainier’s friend, Eddie, who hopes to court her.

Claire turns down Eddie, recognizing that as a widow, she has the freedom to choose her next husband. This independence is a key theme in the film, highlighted by the insightful observation that society needs both those who embrace solitude and those who preach. However, the filmmakers have given Claire more freedom than the original story allowed, freeing her from the duties of motherhood. This likely aims to present a more distinct vision of a peaceful life lived in harmony with nature, a life that Grainier can then relate to his own solitary existence.

Bentley’s adaptation of the novella also alters the way social and political conflicts are presented. One example is the character of Bob, a Native American from the Kootenai Tribe of Idaho who doesn’t drink alcohol. He’s tricked into drinking beer by Canadians who claim lemonade will cancel out the alcohol’s effects. He drinks throughout the night and tragically wanders onto train tracks, where he is killed. (The film version features Johnny Arnoux as a Kootenai man who encounters Grainier when he’s deeply grieving, but, similar to William Coswell Haley, details about his life outside of that encounter are kept hidden.)

Grainier is haunted by a previous violent, racially charged experience, and this isn’t the only difficult interaction with Native American characters that director Bentley removed from the film. In the original story, Grainier felt attracted to two Native American women he met, a desire he struggled to overcome by seeking solace in nature. Bentley omitted this scene, which critics point out highlights the problematic way Native women were being portrayed. The original story also showed Grainier as somewhat inexperienced and repressed sexually, stemming from his loneliness – a vulnerability Bentley chose to avoid, instead focusing on Grainier’s peaceful isolation and a purely friendly connection with Claire after his family’s death.

An achingly romantic ode to the beauty of life

The key difference between Johnson’s Train Dreams and Bentley’s work isn’t the story itself, but the overall feeling it creates. Johnson’s writing is beautiful and sorrowful, filled with striking images and touching details. However, there’s a sense that Johnson observes his character, Grainier, from a slight distance, carefully exploring his flaws and lack of strong moral principles. The writing includes a subtle irony, offering a somewhat melancholic look at how technology and progress leave Grainier behind. As writer and lecturer Anthony Wallace put it, the story is both simple and serious, but with a hint of amusement.

In contrast, Bentley’s film has a clearly romantic feel, enhanced by a beautiful score from Bryce Dressner and stunning cinematography by Adolpho Veloso – almost every shot looks like a painting. The camera work is creative, following the rhythm of a two-person saw, showing scenes from a tree’s point of view, and often positioning Grainier at the edge of the frame. This emphasizes how small and vulnerable he seems in a large and mysterious world. The film is sincere, but it doesn’t rely on sentimentality; it simply presents the story with honesty.

Certain characters translate well, like Grainier’s wife, Gladys. The sadness of Grainier losing his wife and daughter is emphasized by how rarely he gets to see them, as his work keeps him away from home for extended periods. A touching detail from the original story that remains is the idea that Grainier fears his baby daughter, Kate, doesn’t even recognize him when he returns.

Felicity Jones plays Gladys as a kind and gentle character, but also someone who is wise and open. She took the initiative to introduce herself to Grainier at church, and he catches a glimpse of her in the kitchen—wearing what appear to be his trousers and braces. The actors skillfully portray the scene where Gladys explains that dogs understand language much like young children. It’s a charming and simple moment that reveals the warmth of their relationship and offers a glimpse into the secluded, rural life they share with their animals.

Johnson portrays Grainier’s life as a collection of distinct relationships – encounters that begin and end clearly, leaving only finished memories. It’s fitting that Arn Peeples, the quirky, grumpy, and chatty older worker from one of Grainier’s logging crews, was a key character for the film adaptation. It’s a fantastic role for a character actor, and William H. Macy immediately saw its appeal. As he explained, “It’s impossible to turn down a role like Arn Peeples! He’s a poet, a philosopher, and a bit of a lazybones. He’s wise, mature, and someone I’d genuinely enjoy spending time with.”

I was really struck by the character of Arn, even though he doesn’t have a huge amount of page time. He’s an older logger who can’t do the really heavy work anymore, mostly just setting off charges, but he feels so important. He always has stories to tell and doesn’t carry much with him. To me, he felt like a glimpse into Grainier’s future – a look at what he might become as he ages and the world changes around him. Though, honestly, Arn’s a lot more talkative than Grainier ever is – a real storyteller! He shows us what Grainier could be, even if they’re very different personalities.

He’s perfectly suited to deliver the film’s most heartfelt lines, especially in the closing scene – a montage of lovely images from Grainier’s life. He says, while sitting by a tree, looking up at the forest, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” “Just beautiful.” This inability to fully express our fleeting connection to a beautiful world that’s fading with the advance of modern life is at the heart of Train Dreams, and its adaptation of Johnson’s powerful book. Director Bentley relies on breathtaking nature scenes and intimate close-ups of people, staying true to the novel’s subtle style. He allows us only brief glimpses into Grainier’s life before the forces of progress and change sweep us forward.

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2025-11-21 17:07