First, an admission: There's a hardcore train nut inside me, just waiting to get out again.

I grew up in the small village of Essex Junction, VT, a name first coined in 1853 by conductors working the six rail lines that intersected there. The main line between Essex Junction and Burlington ran right behind my house, and I spent uncounted hours walking the rails (or, rather, the right of way). Sometimes I'd head the few miles east towards my middle school, other times west, all the way into the city. I collected it's rusty, discarded railroad spikes and it's hefty, scattered nuts & bolts. If I was out back, I'd wave to the passing engineers, if I was in bed, I'd listen through my open windows as the engine noise grew slowly louder then faded away.

On good days, I'd get to hang out in Mr. Murdough's basement down the block, totally obsessing over the detailed, miniature town he'd built around his O scale model train setup. I've spent hours wandering through hobby stores and train displays, wondering which new car to get or which new tiny building I'd put together. Over the years I'd build my own smaller HO scale layouts on 4' x 8' plywood sheets covered in fake green grass, but as I got older and started moving around, when space got harder to come by, those sets have been reduced to a taped-up box of old train cars and little plastic trees somewhere in the basement. As Amie and I search for a house, invariably my mind returns to "Hmmm... will I be able to fit a train set down here?" when we look at prospective basements and garages. Someday I'll build that little town, and go a little loco out as my trains go 'round and 'round. (Although I promise I'll never wear a little engineers hat while doing it. This I do swear.)

Alright, with that nasty little confession out of the way, I can talk about the wonderful little movie that could (and does), The Station Agent.


It's a quiet, involving film about succumbing to, or fighting, the loneliness of life. It's about escaping to small towns, about three people who end up in Newfoundland, New Jersey for totally different reasons, but are drawn together thanks to bad driving and the chance location of a snack truck vendor.

I didn't know much about this film other than that it centered around a man with dwarfism, and that it had won a number of awards at festivals like Sundance this past year. When the diminutive title character, Fin McBride (played with dignity and perfection by Peter Dinklage), first appears, staring from the rooftops at passing trains, grabbing a smoke before descending to the model railroad store where he works, I already knew I was going to love this movie. It's reminded me of Lost in Translation a bit in the way that it created a mood all it's own, that it depended on character moments and the atmosphere of place, not on gimics, to pull you in. It was about how emotional isolation can physically pull you away, and how it can also bring people together in unfamiliar surroundings.

It all sounds a bit heavy, and some of it really is, but it's all wrapped in so much humor that it's never dour, never overbearing. The interaction between Fin and snack truck vendor Joe (played by the naturally funny Bobby Cannavale) is comedically priceless. Joe's the joker, the NYC-bred non-stop talking Cuban who "loves life" (as Patricia Clarkson's Olivia says in the film). He can't fathom Fin's resistance to hangin' out, he completely overlooks his rebuffs and never gives up. He's one of those innocents who sees a friend in everyone, especially his new next door neighbor out in the middle of nowhere. Joe sees Fin's appearance as a stroke of luck, Fin sees Joe as an annoyance, but the slow progression of their friendship is so well portrayed, so real, you feel the connection they make.

Speaking of Clarkson, there's a reason she's been in so many indie films of late... she's just so, so good at what she does that it's natural she's in demand. I've seen her in a lot of different roles (Six Feet Under, Pieces of April, All the Real Girls, Far From Heaven), and as great as she was in all those, her work in the Station Agent was her best so far. I don't want to give away the tragic reasons for her escape to Newfoundland, but she carries the weight of loss and loneliness all over her, in every expression and every line. She's the emotional flashpoint for the other characters in the film, the trigger for changes in all of them, and she's just right. It's one of those performances that raises the level of everyone else around her.

All three main characters are ideally cast, I came away wanting to see more work from all of them, especially Bobby Cannavale, and I liked all the supporting players save Michelle Williams as a brief love interest for Fin. While she does a solid acting job, her role seems a little shoe-horned in. I know why she's there, but things between her and Fin seem a bit forced. See the movie, you'll know what I mean, even if you don't agree. I was really glad to see little Raven Goodwin as Cleo, too... I thought she was cute as hell in Lovely & Amazing, and I'm glad she got a second role here. Plus, her character collected railroad spikes. Nice to know I'm not alone.

I can't say enough good things about this movie... it's up there with my favorites of the year. Writer/Director Thomas McCarthy came up with something magical here, created a work of art that is deeply touching and universally relevant. His choice of cast, score (a subtle, inventive soundtrack by Stephen Trask, who co-wrote Hedwig & the Angry Itch), setting... all equally inspired. I admit, my love of all things train may have swayed me, but I've got a feeling you'll love it regardless of your opinions on the rail industry.

After the movie, as we drove from Kendall Square towards downtown Boston, we hit the Longfellow Bridge and a subway train arose from the tunnel beside us. Mirroring a scene from the film, we chased it all the way across the Charles. The perfect epilogue.