(Life Through the Lens - Photo Illustration/MetroCreativeConnection)

“The dead tree is as important as the living one.”

***

One of my favorite Fight Club quotes goes — “You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We’re all part of the same compost heap. We’re all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.” Now hear me out, I hear these words and I feel… comfort.

A common misconception in life is that we are special. Granted, your finger paintings should hang in the Smithsonian… your singing is a symphony for Mount Olympus… but you are just a walking, talking bag of meat. A future skeleton. A spontaneously evaporating mist of moments.

We matter. We set things in motion. We are monuments of purpose and intentions. We move literal mountains… but we are minuscule in comparison to EVERYTHING.

The Methuselah Tree began growing in California around 2,832 BC – that is 4,858 years ago! Since that seedling sprouted, 100 billion people have come and gone. Dreams were reached, cries were comforted, civilizations crumbled, sweeping religions were spawned, countless atrocities and altruisms occurred, signs and wonders… and yet this tree stands.

West Virginia is a great reminder of this cold, hard fact. The New River is 360 million years old. The Appalachian Mountains are 480 million years old. I… I am 42 years old. I will come and go – I will matter to some and be unknown to most – yet this river and these mountains will continue.

Feel inadequate yet? I can wait…

But, BUT, we are connected to this near-eternal nature. We are the same decaying matter as the Methuselah Tree. We are made of the waters that run the New River. We are the minerals that make the mountains. We are not separate; we are part of nature. We are not in dominion of the Earth; we are dependent on her and will shortly disappear back into her embrace.

Stand in the forest not as a visitor but as family welcomed home. Wade in the waters not as a foreign contaminant but as a being of its past and future. Embrace your temporal nature because we are part of this wonderful, beautiful, peaceful compost heap.

***

As the train stops in Idaho, we see Robert Grainer (Joel Edgerton), an orphaned child without nourishment or roots. His new “home” is nothing but where he has ended up. School, religion — none of it resonates. The outdoors, though — the vast pines and ageless cedars – they whisper a gentle invitation to Robert that he will not ignore. He looks a bit backward to the townsfolk, shy and standoffish, but that is only because nature is his solace and comfort.

All that changes when he meets Gladys (Felicity Jones); she sees his sensitivity as a primal strength; she yearns to honor and understand his affinity for the wild. When a plot by the river calls to them, they build their home there and start their family.

Work is hard to come by, so Robert is forced to take taxing, dangerous and time-consuming jobs — railway construction, then logging. He must leave home for months at a time, each time feeling a crippling guilt about the choices he has made and the memories he has not made. Robert has seen things one cannot unsee, has missed moments that cannot be recreated.

Mother Nature gives much yet takes away impartially – Robert watches as happiness is replaced with mourning, which gives way to resigned contentment. Every up and every down are a reminder of just how insignificant he really is… yet how significant his interactions and appreciations are to the vastness of everything.

Times change — electricity, automobiles, wars and culture shifts — but Robert retreats into what he knows best: nature’s silent support. He wants little and takes even less; he departs just as he came — a whisper in the wind.

∫∫∫

“Train Dreams” flew completely under my radar until last week when a friend said I just had to watch it. I knew it was up for Best Picture… but the cover was boring… and it was Netflix. After watching it, though, I am blown away. It is the slow, methodical sweep-through-the-soul that this year was missing; we’ve had some great movies, but nothing like this. It is a wistful recollection, a lingering glimpse of life unforced.

Director Clint Bentley shows masterful control and patience; his film breathes in and out with a natural grace. Instead of meandering aimlessly, it moves with an ancient flow, one of calm and constant. The screenplay by Bentley and Greg Kwedar, based on the novel by Denis Johnson, is passionate, persistent, but never pretentious; its current is unavoidable yet oddly reassuring. The composition by Bryce Dessner is lovely and often quietly necessary. The cinematography by Adolpho Veloso is absolutely stunning; it captures so much of what Robert found mesmerizing and worthwhile. The editing by Parker Laramie is crucial — it allows moments to remain, emotions to deepen and characters to live.

Edgerton is amazing in this film; he is quiet yet epically powerful. Jones is wonderful and touching as Gladys. William H. Macy is incredible as Arn Peeples, a logger that crossed Robert’s path often. Kerry Condon, as Claire Thompson, is always great. Will Patton’s narration is subtle yet endearing.

“Train Dreams” succeeds where many others fail: It provides an earnest portrait of an earnest person. It takes the audience where it intends and leaves us feeling changed. “Train Dreams” can be streamed right now on Netflix.

REPORT CARD: “Train Dreams”

Grade: A+

Assessment: A soft yet powerful piece