Streaming undoubtedly has many positive sides, first and foremost that of having broken down – figuratively speaking – every boundary.

There is really nothing strange, nowadays, in seeing a Spanish, Korean or Argentinian series or film become a global phenomenon, seen and loved by tens of millions of people in all four corners of the planet.

For those born directly in this habitat it is the norm, but for any cinema or TV lover who was a teenager in a remote era in which it was almost impossible to see or discover something different from the usual (translated: from American or European productions) it is a quality that is impossible not to notice and appreciate.

But in recent years we have inevitably witnessed the other side of the coin. The rush, the rush and the need to fill the platforms with content have led, on the one hand, to an impoverishment of the cinematographic experience with ever less crowded theaters because people prefer to save and wait to see a film at home, and on the other to an increase in the offer which ends up hiding small, large pearls in the sea of ​​algorithms that do not favor leaving our comfort zone, clipping the wings of a curiosity already lazy and weakened by the various hindrances that everyone’s life of us places in front of us. Why look for something “different” if “my Netflix” already offers me something that “could” be in line with my tastes?

This is why a film like Train Dreams – which twenty years ago would have arrived in cinemas anyway after a minimum of publicity hype that would have made people aware of its existence and which today is instead available on Netflix – could end up lost among the one hundred and fiftieth docudrama produced by the Los Gatos giant.

And that would be a shame. Probably, if I hadn’t had to write this article, it would have escaped me too in the midst of the frenzy of days always full of things to do that leave little time to breathe. Which, curiously, is also somewhat of the underlying assumption of the feature film directed by Clint Bentley

What Train Dreams is about

The film directed by Clint Bentley and also written by him together with Greg Kwedar is based on the story of the same name by Denis Johnson and tells the life of the orphan Robert Grainier (Joel Edgerton) which takes place in early 20th century America. A period in which that nation was definitively passing from the period of the wild west to that which gave birth to the United States of today (which are however always inextricably linked to those of yesterday). For a living, he works on expanding the rail network through the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest which he inevitably finds himself having to cut down for obvious reasons. He marries Gladys (Felicity Jones) and sets up home with her, with whom he has a daughter. Until fate puts him in front of an unwelcome and unexpected surprise.

Stop. Observe. Breathe deeply.

It’s definitely worth giving yourself an hour and forty-five minutes to watch this Train Dreams on Netflix. A perfect, almost unusual amount of time: films now have to last a minimum of two and a half hours regardless, but I don’t want to open this Pandora’s box.

This is a film that discusses, with simplicity, lyricism and sincerity, a complex topic such as the answer “what is really worth giving up your life for?”.

And it wisely does so by setting Robert Grainier’s story in a period of fundamental change in North America, in which a system of values, and the pace of lives based on them, were inevitably speeding up. Except that as Ferris Bueller teaches in that masterpiece known as A Crazy Day Off: life passes by quickly, if one doesn’t stop and look around one risks wasting it.

Is it seriously worth giving in to this moral blackmail that prevents us from being more with our children, with the person we love, with friends, from giving ourselves time to read a book or, more simply, to sit still and enjoy the spectacle of the clouds passing by while we lie on a lawn without thinking of anything other than something like “how nice it is to be here at this precise moment”.

A reflection that is not made in a cloying, honeyed or, worse, didactic way, but which is instead carried forward thanks to a direction that is fascinated by what it frames and which inevitably fascinates the spectator who observes, by a story populated with fundamental encounters for a protagonist divided between the need to stay for long periods of time away from the only family he has on a personal journey that leads him to understand, every day a little more, what really matters in life. Which is the need to slow down a little even if everything around you seems to be pushing in the opposite direction. To find the good in the people around you and the beauty of the world into which you were thrown by who knows what strange case. Are there echoes of Terrence Malick in all this? Undoubtedly. But we think in a much more direct and pragmatic way, less grandiloquent which is certainly an advantage in terms of “accessibility” so to speak.

In an incredibly apt cast in which each face has been chosen with care so much so that it will be impossible not to be impressed by the explosives expert played by the always excellent William H. Macy, Joel Edgerton gives us one of the best performances of his career, full of nuances, sweetness and intimacy. However, he is a man with whom one immediately connects because of how he deals with everything that life puts in front of him, both the good things and the… less good ones.

I don’t know what the Netflix algorithm usually recommends to you.

But in case the poster of this film is not present on your home page, go and look for it if you want to see a good film that talks about the meaning of life in a truly frank way.

RATING: 8.5