No Trees were harmed in the making of this film

I watched Train Dreams (Clint Bentley, 2025) at the theatre when I was a bit more than half-way through reading the source novella of the same name by Denis Johnson.  My first thought after the movie ended was whether or not any trees were harmed in the making of the film.  I finished reading the short book later that evening and whatever other questions I had about the choices made in the process of adapting (as well as the trees thing) were answered in an interview that Vikram Murthri did with filmmakers Clint Bentley and Greg Kwedar for Filmmaker Magazine.

Some of what I learned about the production:
~ No trees were harmed during the making of Train Dreams.  There were prop trees enhanced with VFX for visual purposes as well as coordinating with crews that were already going to cut down trees around the filming locations to get some shots.
~ The collaborative style that Clint and Greg have consists of one of them directing even if they both contribute to the ideating and writing.
~ Denis Johnson’s widow, Cindy, gave them her blessing with how they wanted to make the film.
~ Clint’s background in documentary filmmaking inspires him to find ways of making locations usable.
~ Some animals are trained so well and can do what the script calls for, but other animals tend to do behave how they want, and the director must film whatever the animals are doing unprompted.

I liked the book a lot; it reminded me of Stoner by John Williams.  Below are excerpts from both books.  I think Clint Bentley and Greg Kedwar should adapt the John Williams book if the project with Joe Wright and Casey Affleck attached is still in limbo and won’t be gaining any traction any time soon.

“In his extreme youth Stoner had thought of love as an absolute state of being to which, if one were lucky, one might find access; in his maturity he had decided it was the heaven of a false religion, toward which one ought to gaze with an amused disbelief, a gently familiar contempt, and an embarrassed nostalgia.  Now in his middle age he began to know that it was neither a state of grace nor an illusion; he saw it as a human act of becoming, a condition that was invented and modified moment by moment and day by day, by the will and the intelligence and the heart” (Williams, 195).

‘When the sun got too hot, they moved under a lone jack pine in the pasture of jeremy grass, he with his back against the bark and she with her cheek on his shoulder.  The white daisies dabbed the field so profusely that it seemed to foam.  He wanted to ask for her hand now.  He was afraid to ask.  She must want him to ask, or surely she wouldn’t lie here with him, breathing against his arm, his face against her hair—her hair faintly fragrant of sweat and sop… “Would you care to be my wife, Gladys?” he astonished himself by saying.
“Yes, Bob, I believe I would like it,” she said, and she seemed to hold her breath a minute; then he sighed, and both laughed‘ (Johnson, 39).

The filmmakers talk about the adaptation process for Netflix here.

Pic cred: IMDB

The Ballad of Colin Farrell’s Mouth

Colin Farrell is center stage in Edward Berger‘s film adaption of Lawrence Osborne’s novel, Ballad of a Small Player.  Tilda Swinton steals the show effortlessly for me, Jason Tobin and Anthony Wong are fantastic surprises, and Fala Chen demonstrates a maturity in screen presence and performance, but there’s no escaping the main character, his quest to improve his money situation, and his nearly perpetually open mouth.

When I wrote about the Kristen Stewart film Underwater, I remarked that there was a lot of mouth-breathing in the film.  Well, Colin Farrell takes that title with deftly twitchy hands.  It didn’t irritate me, but once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop focusing on it every time he wasn’t talking.  As of 2025, he has just under seventy acting credits (of finished projects) to his name (including voiceover work).  I estimate that I’ve only seen a dozen of his films.  If you have seen at least thirty of his films, does he have a habit of not closing his mouth when he isn’t speaking?

I do not want to spoil anything for anyone who’s planning on watching this movie at the theatre or on Netflix because the way the story and themes present themselves must be enjoyed in the moment.  The trailer doesn’t give much away, so if you’re undecided, check it out.  Ballad of a Small Player is a beautifully filmed and fun cinematic experience.  It makes me want to watch Three Thousand Years of Longing again on account of Tilda Swinton.  

Pic creds: Youtube screengrabs

 

Off Topic: I Was Herded through the Green Vines

Honey, Honey, Yeah.

About a year ago, I listened to the audio version of Scott Smith’s novel The Ruins.

There’s now a film version of this trouble-in-paradise story. Directed by relative novice Carter Smith, adapted by the author himself, and distributed by Dreamworks, The Ruins thrusts half a dozen nubile protagonists into a world of sudden death, injury, and doom in what was supposed to be, for four of them, the last bash before the rest of their adult lives. Jeff (Jonathan Tucker), Amy (Jena Malone), Eric (Shawn Ashmore), and Stacy (Laura Ramsey) are vacationing in Mexico to enjoy the final days of their insouciant youth. A quasi-chance encounter with a German named Mathias (Joe Anderson), who randomly befriended three Greeks at the resort, throws the bunch on a trip deep into the heart of Central American jungle vegetation. The four Americans, the German, and Dimitiri (Dimitri Baveas), one of the Greeks, set off to the site of an archaeological dig at a Mayan temple to help locate the German’s younger brother Heinrich (Jordan Patrick Smith). What the protagonists find (and don’t find) seal their fates and only a pocketful of luck might save them.

As a text independent of its narrative ancestor but considered alongside other examples of vacation-gone-awry-or-deadly cinema, The Ruins is disappointing in its mediocrity. There isn’t adequate time nor charisma conveyed for the viewer to grow attached to any of the characters. While the special effects are predominantly satisfying, and the roles are well-cast, the build-up of dread and peril is insufficiently presented. The plot covers a time frame of three nights and four days total–two nights and three days at the vine-covered mound. The US theatrical release is ninety-one minutes long–the film itself feels about fifteen minutes shorter. It’s possible that to avoid making a two-and-a-half-hour epic, sympathy for the characters and more effective creation and sustenance of suspense had to be sacrificed.*

I’m not going to get into every similarity and difference between the novel and the film. For more comments about the experience reading the book, click here and scroll down to Schtinky’s review. He remarks that “Scott Smith has captured the atmosphere of a strange, exotic land, the horror that envelops futility, and the unsettling sense of when sanity slips away – when a human life is measured by a slice of orange. He captures every detail of thought and action without slipping into boredom or redundancy.

I felt like I was right there in the heat and the vines with them, felt the languid, creeping dread, tasted the senselessness of imprudent action and fruitless inaction. ‘The Ruins’ is a true horror tale, splattered with just enough gore to keep you smacking your lips.”

Listening to Patrick Wilson narrate the audio version–and while I was in the process of falling asleep to boot–creates the very sensations and responses that Schtinky articulates. The film, however, pales in comparison. Should I add an “inevitably” or “unfortunately” somewhere before or after “pales”? Having Smith adapt the screenplay may or may not have been the best move, but I don’t think it was the wrong one–if that makes any sense. Rather than have an outsider edit down certain scenes, storylines, or character functions, getting the author of the source material might mean fewer rewrites.

The Ruins, the film, is without a few scenes, begins and ends differently (in key areas), and swaps the deaths of a few characters. Oh yes, here is a situation where it is no mystery and cannot be a surprise that not everyone survives. But you knew that–you’ve at least seen the first Scream movie. N’est-ce pas?

Observations & Miscellania:

1. In the novel, Amy’s camera, a chirping cell phone, bottles of tequila, and other backpacking supplies (a knife, first-aid kit, water, and dried food items) are featured prominently. The Ruins comes across as ripe for product placement, but the film studio and director decided against it–a good decision, I think. The only brand name I could “recognize” is Aquafina (you can’t mistake that bottle), but the name is never directly on screen. I couldn’t catch the writing on the tequila. The cell phone does not receive any conspicuous endorsements. And, while Amy’s camera is still important in terms of plot, receiving close-ups throughout, its brand name is not foregrounded on screen.

2. I would like to mention, though, that the most immediately obvious difference between the book and film is the name of the Greek that accompanies the Americans and German to the dig site. In the novel, his name is Pablo, in the film it’s Dimitri.

3. I wonder how many deleted scenes the DVD will have.

4. *Unless, of course, the viewer isn’t supposed to identify with the characters. The film as it is–and not taking into account any subplots left on the cutting room floor–even portrays the protagonists (especially the Americans) in a less than guiltless light (I’m not jumping on an ideological reading of characters as “dumb Westerners”). The shots of bare buttocks (Jeff’s and Stacy’s) and breasts (Stacy’s) strike me as simultaneously superfluous and illuminating. The viewer is either necessarily placed in this voyeuristic position to view the characters as specimens in some experiment (and thus feel less when bad fortune befalls them); Or, a sliver of rear and profile nudity will lure the target audiences into theatre seats.

5. If you want to know how the characters in the book die vs. the film, please highlight the pertinent words: In the book, which is much more contemplative and sad, they all die. Pablo, the Greek, is the one that eagerly volunteers to be let down the shaft to see what’s down there. He’s the one that falls, breaks his back, ends up getting his legs amputated before the knees, and then dies due to exposure, infection, and the carnivorous vines. Eric is the one who is later lowered into the shaft to report on Pablo’s injuries; Eric is the one whose knee is cut and then ultimately skins himself live to get at the vines that have buried themselves inside his body. He accidentally stabs Mathias when he and Jeff try to pry the knife from his hands. I think Stacy dies from dehydration and the loss of will power. Amy and Jeff are the last ones left, until one day Jeff moves too far from the vines and he’s shot with arrows. Amy slashes her wrists.

In the movie, Dimitri, the Greek, is killed before they make it up the vine temple. Mathias then takes his place in terms of storyline. Stacy and Eric trade places as well. She’s the one that goes in to check on the injured Mathias and cuts her knee in the process; she’s the one that slices into her flesh to remove the invading vines. She accidentally kills Eric when he and Jeff try to get the knife away. She also slashes Jeff’s left palm in that fit of madness. Jeff’s demise is more or less consistent with the book. But Amy gets away–another final girl. In the novel, there’s also a harrowing scene where Jeff and Amy realize that there was never a cell phone–it was the vines all along. The movie swaps Jeff for Stacy.

6. I’m not sure The Ruins adds anything to the aquarium with respect to gore and violence that could top Cannibal Holocaust or Salo aka 120 Days of Sodom.

7. I would not recommend this film even as a guilty pleasure unless you’ve at least read or listened to some of the book. The movie is better suited as an audiovisual accompaniment or aid to the novel than a closed-text film.

8. One of the worst movie posters ever? Aesthetically very unsightly.

9. Jonathan Tucker as Jeff. As needless as his mooning bit was, he’s got a nice bottom.

Read Pete Vonder Haar’s review of The Ruins here.

Click here for the trailer.