Train Master to My Heart

The Power of a Simple Story Can Bring You to Your Knees

When does a bad movie become a monumental message? If you are like me, you may have spent many Saturday mornings watching MST3K on Comedy Central, ripping bad movies with Tom Servo, Crow T. Robot, and the gang. While most films deserve these royal send-ups, we tend to forget that someone put their heart and soul into a vision, perhaps emptying themselves into a gasp of creativity. In the past, these films may have been relegated to the trash heap only to be viewed by an archivist or lone aficionados. Ah, but the 'New' Media revolution has forever changed this.

A Child's Obsession, A Remarkable Find

A kid's movie recently reinforced the value of these individual voices. One rainy day on Netflix, when our house was feeling low ebb and feverish throughout, little did I know that a shared movie would break me into pieces.

My four-year-old is a train nut; from the moment he could express an interest in things, trains were always at the top of the list. He would crawl over to my older son's wooden train sets and spend hours

rolling the trains over the tracks. 

We bought him the entire 'I Love Toy Trains' DVD collection and spent countless hours watching them, singing the songs, and discussing what trains he would like to get and set up. He pours over Lionel's catalogs and asks me to read them to him like story books. Yeah, he likes trains. (Do not get me started on how many times we have watched the 'Lionelville' animated video that came with his Scout set. Hey Lionel - Why, six years after it was produced, is there no conclusion to the story?!)

On this rainy and sickly kind of day, my son asked if he could watch a film about trains on the Wii. My search turned up the film "Train Master."

A Simple Story, Unexpected Depth

The film is about a Train Master- a person who is the top railroad engineer who lives and breathes all things railroad-related, who loses his job when an ambitious and morally questionable investor purchases a local freight line. As it would happen, the investor's son, Justin, and the Train Master's grandkid, Thomas, go to the same lower elementary school. When the former learns that Thomas knows how to drive a train, he holds Thomas's favorite dinosaur ransom. Thomas and three other children board an old engine in for repairs and accidentally turn it into a runaway engine, causing a chain reaction of events.

I sat and watched the first 10 minutes of the film to make sure it was what I expected and did not hide an inappropriate theme. The film is awkward, with a storyline that feels like the extemporaneous tales young kids tell excitedly to their friends and parents. It is the kind of story whose point is to talk about trains but where a coherent plot is secondary to the fantastical first person. To be blunt, the film is clearly amateurish, with jerky story transitions and acting that can only be kindly called wooden.

My kid immediately connected with scenes that shift from a model train set to real trains. Over the day, my four-year-old watched this movie four times with me by his side for parts here and there -(he would fill me in as to what I 'missed'). Suffice it to say I was able to see a large part of the movie over the four showings. While I was fascinated with my son's enraptured attention to the movie, what came at the end took my knees away, like being 'surprised by a left hook.'

A Father's Love, A Parents Fear

Just as the film ends (happily, of course), a picture of a child who looks a bit like the actors in the movie, complete with a childish mop top hair, but is clearly not one of them, fades up with a dedication and a set of dates. The last name is the same as the Writer / Director of the film.

As the credits rolled, home movies of the kid on trains, with model trains and rail yards, played in the background. Looking at my son, who was still fixed to his spot, watching with rapt attention, my mental math finally kicked in. 

Seven years old. Seven. The film results from a shared story between a father and son who never made it past seven. I looked over at my four-year-old, and the connection with the filmmaker's despair and dedication rolled over me. The emotions came on so hard, so fast, I had to excuse myself and turn to find a quiet spot.

As I turned the corner into our home office, I found my wife sitting at the computer - in her arms, I promptly lost it. I cried; I cried hard at the thought of losing my own son, the comparison to the seven-year-old on screen so clear, and the silent fear all parents grapple with. Simultaneously laughing at myself, I was almost aghast at a depth of my emotional reaction to a silly kids' film, yet the tears and sobs came in waves as I clutched my wife, releasing the anguish and trying to find a center and gaining control. 

The power of communication and connection can come in the most surprising places. 

I played a long game of trains with my son that day.