Keep Calm and Keep Chugging On
Sorry for not posting this yesterday: I lost track of time and wound up forgetting that it was Wednesday. Well, a day late's better than nothing, so here's my review of the Masterpiece Theater version of The Railway Children.
I think my interest in The Railway Children stemmed partly from thinking it might be similar to The Boxcar Children, a book I enjoyed as a kid, and partly because it was a period piece. As it turns out, the period aspects aren’t a huge element, and while you could probably draw comparisons between the movie and The Boxcar Children if you really worked at it, there’s no obvious connection. That’s not to say the movie is bad, but it’s probably not going to play out like you expect.
The story revolves around a family of five, a mother (Jenny Agutter), a father (Michael Kitchen), two daughters named Bobbie and Phyllis (Jemima Rooper and Clare Thomas), and a son named Peter (Jack Blumenau). Right at the start of the movie, the father is sent away in the middle of the night, and the rest of the family is forced to sell their furniture and downsize to a small cottage in the country, close to a train station. While the mother tries to earn a living by writing stories, the children spend their time playing and exploring, and waving to a train heading to London in the hopes that it’ll carry their love to their father. Over time, they start striking up friendships with people connected to the train, from the station manager/conductor Perks (Gregor Fisher) to a well-dressed gentleman (Richard Attenborough) who always waves at the children from the back of the train. These friendships lead to various plot developments, though they generally aren’t connected and tend to play out as a series of vignettes. Which is fine at one level, but also contributes to some of the movie’s problems.
Thanks to the fact that there’s no concrete plot, the movie ends up being kind of meandering. I won’t deny that it’s got charm and warmth, but it feels longer than the actual runtime of an hour and thirty-five minutes. It doesn’t help that some elements, like the old gentleman, keep showing up, while others are only around for twenty minutes and then never come up again. You never really know what’s relevant or what’s not, and that contributes to the disjointed nature. Furthermore, some plot points that should be important are barely explored. For example, at one point the mother gets influenza and requires medicines and food that the family can’t afford. Out of desperation, the children get a note to the gentleman and ask for his help. He obliges with a big basket of food, but once the mother recovers, she’s very angry at the children for begging and tells them not to do it again. The children then proceed to continue to ask the gentleman for help (though not for material items), and the topic never really comes up again*. Similarly, we can hazard a guess as to what’s going on with the father, and he’s mentioned just enough that you know it’s eventually going to become a plot point. When it does actually happen, not only is it in the third act, it turns out to involve elements we had absolutely no inkling of, before being resolved predominately offscreen. I know we’re seeing things from the perspective of the children, but given what we hear, I think that plot point deserved more attention. In fact, since the old gentleman is involved in that point as well as several other vignettes, I kind of wish we could have a whole movie all about him. A sequel, maybe?
There are a few other things worth noting. One, there’s no villain in the story, just a variety of conflicts. This isn’t a problem, but it may help contribute to the meandering feel of the movie. Two, I have no idea how much time passes over the course of the movie. I’m guessing at least a year, but there’s no definite proof of that. Again, this isn’t a problem per se, but it does raise the question of why we never see the kids in school. Perhaps things were different in the Victorian era, but I would have expected at least one scene where the children are at least seen reading or doing math problems, even if it’s just in a homeschool capacity. Instead, it feels like they’re free to wander around whenever they like, which is good for the plot but bad for realism. And finally, there’s a little plot point that I don’t entirely understand, and I don’t know if it’s a matter of me not picking up important information, a period element I’m unfamiliar with, or something that makes sense to Brits but not Americans. After their mother gets sick, the doctor helps them out a little, and the children fret over how they’re going to pay for this. The servant who comes in to help out on occasion makes a snarky comment about how doctors bleed you dry, with another line that heavily infers that she’s paid for medical treatments by having sex with the doctor. A scene or two after this conversation, the eldest daughter goes to the doctor and says she was told about a special club where you can get medical treatment for greatly reduced rates, and asks if she can join this club. The doctor looks a bit startled and tells her not to worry about it. Sometime later, he shows up again to treat a different medical issue, and the daughter brings up the club again, suggesting that they’ve never resolved the matter, and certainly that sex hasn’t been involved. But that then raises the question of how they paid the bill. Did the doctor reduce the rate out of pity? If so, then that’s another moment when the mother’s assertion that they shouldn’t beg got ignored. And if he didn’t, then is the club really a thing, and how exactly does it work? It’s a small plot point and isn’t overly important, but it’s one of those details that can interfere with your suspension of disbelief if you notice it. Given the nature of the story, that’s a particular danger here.
I’m of two minds about this movie. There’s nothing truly wrong with it, and it does have plenty of charm, but there are enough small problems that add up and bring the movie down. I’m guessing this is a case where you have to decide if the story and the tropes appeal to you personally. For me, they were enough to make the movie pleasurable, but aren’t enough for me to give it a true stamp of approval. More like a half-stamp, I think.
CAT ALERT: Near the end of the movie, Perks unlocks the door to the station interior and reveals a black cat that runs out of the building. He seems surprised by this, so apparently it’s not an official station cat. I’m not sure why they put it in the movie, to be honest, but on the other hand, I’m not complaining.
*Though to be fair, the one time it does, the children get scolded for it again, so at least the movie is somewhat consistent.
I think my interest in The Railway Children stemmed partly from thinking it might be similar to The Boxcar Children, a book I enjoyed as a kid, and partly because it was a period piece. As it turns out, the period aspects aren’t a huge element, and while you could probably draw comparisons between the movie and The Boxcar Children if you really worked at it, there’s no obvious connection. That’s not to say the movie is bad, but it’s probably not going to play out like you expect.
The story revolves around a family of five, a mother (Jenny Agutter), a father (Michael Kitchen), two daughters named Bobbie and Phyllis (Jemima Rooper and Clare Thomas), and a son named Peter (Jack Blumenau). Right at the start of the movie, the father is sent away in the middle of the night, and the rest of the family is forced to sell their furniture and downsize to a small cottage in the country, close to a train station. While the mother tries to earn a living by writing stories, the children spend their time playing and exploring, and waving to a train heading to London in the hopes that it’ll carry their love to their father. Over time, they start striking up friendships with people connected to the train, from the station manager/conductor Perks (Gregor Fisher) to a well-dressed gentleman (Richard Attenborough) who always waves at the children from the back of the train. These friendships lead to various plot developments, though they generally aren’t connected and tend to play out as a series of vignettes. Which is fine at one level, but also contributes to some of the movie’s problems.
Thanks to the fact that there’s no concrete plot, the movie ends up being kind of meandering. I won’t deny that it’s got charm and warmth, but it feels longer than the actual runtime of an hour and thirty-five minutes. It doesn’t help that some elements, like the old gentleman, keep showing up, while others are only around for twenty minutes and then never come up again. You never really know what’s relevant or what’s not, and that contributes to the disjointed nature. Furthermore, some plot points that should be important are barely explored. For example, at one point the mother gets influenza and requires medicines and food that the family can’t afford. Out of desperation, the children get a note to the gentleman and ask for his help. He obliges with a big basket of food, but once the mother recovers, she’s very angry at the children for begging and tells them not to do it again. The children then proceed to continue to ask the gentleman for help (though not for material items), and the topic never really comes up again*. Similarly, we can hazard a guess as to what’s going on with the father, and he’s mentioned just enough that you know it’s eventually going to become a plot point. When it does actually happen, not only is it in the third act, it turns out to involve elements we had absolutely no inkling of, before being resolved predominately offscreen. I know we’re seeing things from the perspective of the children, but given what we hear, I think that plot point deserved more attention. In fact, since the old gentleman is involved in that point as well as several other vignettes, I kind of wish we could have a whole movie all about him. A sequel, maybe?
There are a few other things worth noting. One, there’s no villain in the story, just a variety of conflicts. This isn’t a problem, but it may help contribute to the meandering feel of the movie. Two, I have no idea how much time passes over the course of the movie. I’m guessing at least a year, but there’s no definite proof of that. Again, this isn’t a problem per se, but it does raise the question of why we never see the kids in school. Perhaps things were different in the Victorian era, but I would have expected at least one scene where the children are at least seen reading or doing math problems, even if it’s just in a homeschool capacity. Instead, it feels like they’re free to wander around whenever they like, which is good for the plot but bad for realism. And finally, there’s a little plot point that I don’t entirely understand, and I don’t know if it’s a matter of me not picking up important information, a period element I’m unfamiliar with, or something that makes sense to Brits but not Americans. After their mother gets sick, the doctor helps them out a little, and the children fret over how they’re going to pay for this. The servant who comes in to help out on occasion makes a snarky comment about how doctors bleed you dry, with another line that heavily infers that she’s paid for medical treatments by having sex with the doctor. A scene or two after this conversation, the eldest daughter goes to the doctor and says she was told about a special club where you can get medical treatment for greatly reduced rates, and asks if she can join this club. The doctor looks a bit startled and tells her not to worry about it. Sometime later, he shows up again to treat a different medical issue, and the daughter brings up the club again, suggesting that they’ve never resolved the matter, and certainly that sex hasn’t been involved. But that then raises the question of how they paid the bill. Did the doctor reduce the rate out of pity? If so, then that’s another moment when the mother’s assertion that they shouldn’t beg got ignored. And if he didn’t, then is the club really a thing, and how exactly does it work? It’s a small plot point and isn’t overly important, but it’s one of those details that can interfere with your suspension of disbelief if you notice it. Given the nature of the story, that’s a particular danger here.
I’m of two minds about this movie. There’s nothing truly wrong with it, and it does have plenty of charm, but there are enough small problems that add up and bring the movie down. I’m guessing this is a case where you have to decide if the story and the tropes appeal to you personally. For me, they were enough to make the movie pleasurable, but aren’t enough for me to give it a true stamp of approval. More like a half-stamp, I think.
CAT ALERT: Near the end of the movie, Perks unlocks the door to the station interior and reveals a black cat that runs out of the building. He seems surprised by this, so apparently it’s not an official station cat. I’m not sure why they put it in the movie, to be honest, but on the other hand, I’m not complaining.
*Though to be fair, the one time it does, the children get scolded for it again, so at least the movie is somewhat consistent.