The Railway Man

This is arguably one of the best WW2 films I have ever seen. There aren't many films that tell the story of the situation outside of Europe and this tells it brilliantly. Collin Firth portrays the emotional struggle of a man plagued by the war extremely well, and I was gripped from start to finish. I've been to Thailand and this was possibly why I was so affected by the film, but I thought it was extremely touching and thought provoking. The story affected me to the point of tears (as no other film has ever done). There is so much depth and beauty to the film and characters and I think it's a shame it hasn't been rated higher.

War casts long shadows over both nations and individuals and, when the fighting stops, the pain remains. This is the remarkable story of a British officer who became a prisoner of war when the Japanese took Singapore in early 1942, worked on the infamous Burma-Siam railway, and suffered terrible torture for constructing a radio receiver.

Eric Lomax is played by Jeremy Irvine (wartime) and Colin Firth (post-war), while his lead kempei torturer Takeshi Nagase is portrayed by Tanroh Ishida and then Hiroyuki Sanada. Nicole Kidman sports a good English accent (as she did in "The Hours") as Lomax's (second) wife, but the casting of the Swedish Stellan Skarsgård is odd.

This is not a easy film to watch but tells a moving real-life story that is ultimately up- lifting. In the central role, Firth is impressive. Like a good wine, this is an actor who improves with age.

"The Railway Man" is a sober restrained film for much of its running time. Its low key approach makes the torture scenes and the depictions of Eric Lomax's searing post-war nightmares all the more horrifying and unforgettable. The acting is uniformly excellent. The direction and all the technical contributions are admirable. I normally never consciously notice the sound design, but here it contributes intelligently and gently to several episodes. I was particularly fascinated to see Eric and the other signals staff emerging into the sunlight from the underground "Battle Box" headquarters in Fort Canning Park, Singapore. I toured it in 2007; it is now a museum peopled by realistic waxworks of the soldiers, senior and junior, who were there on surrender day, 15th February 1942.

Yet the film has several irritating shortcomings. The title character, Eric, was 61 at the time of the scenes set in 1980. Good as he is, Colin Firth is visibly too young. Perhaps it shouldn't matter, given the power of his performance, but it gets in the way if you try to make sense of the time lapses.

The very down to earth portrayal of Eric's lonely life is immensely touching, as in the scene where his new love Patti wants to scrub clean the cooking pot in his grubby bachelor kitchen. But such practical matter of fact detail inevitably invites down to earth speculation such as "Where does the characters' money come from?" This tiresome little problem hardly matters in more fantastical Hollywood sagas where everyone is filthy rich or in possession of superpowers. Eric is shown to drive a Triumph 2000, a car typically owned by the affluent middle classes of that time. (I have not seen one for years. The Triumph marque disappeared long ago along with much of the British car industry. The equivalent British middle classes now drive BMWs, Mercedes and Audis). This fine car and his neglected house are the only signs that he had a successful and productive working life between 1945 and 1980.

His tormented friend at the veterans club notes how the survivors of the 1940s horrors are now bank clerks, teachers, engineers, retired people; honest productive citizens, whose unsung post war endurance is as admirable as their war time survival. (One of my teachers around 1969 had been a Prisoner of War at Changi Prison in Singapore, but you would never have heard it from him.) Presumably many of these gentle heroes were married, as was Eric. But his failed post-war marriage and two children are unmentioned in the movie. As are Patti's three children. Somehow, despite a failed marriage, she has the cash to tour Britain. The fact that she had been married is barely hinted at (she describes herself as single again). The fact that the real Patti lived in Canada for many years is unmentioned.

Even a passing mention of the characters' histories could have considerably enriched the film. As it stands, it feels as if they were dropped into the story from Mars.

In his book "Hollywood vs America", the critic Michael Medved noted the inviolable barrier between Church and Studio in most Hollywood films. The same deep rooted reluctance to mention spiritual matters, even when they are relevant to the characters, is very evident in this film. The only sign of the prisoners' religious leanings in this real Valley of the Shadow of Death is the recitation of a Psalm in one scene. Eric's deep Christian faith helped him through the nightmare and perhaps lead to his forgiveness of his tormentor decades later. He carried a Bible for decades during and after his imprisonment until it was utterly worn.

You can get the background story from the book. For the price of a cinema ticket, it is much better value for money. You get at least a limited sense of the vanished Britain of the 1920s and 1930s when Eric grew up. The lovingly described details of the social and industrial environment that formed him make sense of how this man came to be a survivor. A new preface in the movie tie-in edition describes how Eric did not want to see the finished film; he died before it was released. If he had seen it, he might have pointed out, in the most polite manner, how much of the really important story had been left out.

Last week I saw American HUSTLE and couldn't understand why the critics have so raved about it. Yesterday I saw THE RAILWAY MAN and can't understand why the critics have been so dismissive. It's a tense story about one of the great horrors of World War Two. Based on a true story, it's also a tale of love and redemption, two of the cinema's (and literature's) greatest themes. And it serves up a vivid reminder that the Japanese of the 1940s were, like the Nazis, from a different generation, almost from a different race.

David Lean's BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI casts a huge shadow over this movie. THE RAILWAY MAN lacks the "majesty" of Lean's famous epic, but I suspect that Alex Guinness's performance would seem very theatrical by the standards of screen acting today. If anything, Colin Firth gives a slightly under-powered performance (and Nicole Kidman's part gives her too little to work with), but Jeremy Irvine is intensely believable as the wartime Lomax, geeky and quietly heroic. The horrors of the forced labour that built the railway and the relentless brutality of the Japanese soldiers are both vividly conveyed, and the ending manages to be poignant without trespassing into mawkishness.

This is a strange movie, grim but highly watchable. Arguably, it could have been tougher, more savage, but then it might be harder to sit through.

Based on a true memoir of survival, love, retribution, and forgiveness, "The Railway Man" sets off from Edinburgh at a leisurely pace. The film slowly unfolds through flashbacks as layer upon layer of a World War II veteran's repressed memories are stripped away. A brutal, less spectacular cousin to "The Bridge on the River Kwai," the film centers on events that followed the British surrender of Singapore in 1942 and the subsequent Japanese use of British prisoners of war to construct a railway line from Thailand into Burma. Hidden secrets erupt from a rumpled domestic scene and unfurl in a bleak and monochromatic Scotland. However, in flashback, the cinematography shifts to warmer hues that imbue the tropical prison camp scenes shot around Kanchanaburi, Thailand, and the actual rail line that crosses the River Kwai.

The film's outer layer is a love story between an aging unkempt railway enthusiast, Eric Lomax, and a younger woman, Patti, whom he meets during a train journey. Once wed, Eric's suppressed demons from his war experiences surface, and Patti attempts to unravel her husband's mysteries and reclaim the man that she loves. Colin Firth portrays Eric in a restrained internalized performance that simmers with efforts to suppress harrowing memories, pent-up anger, and a thirst for vengeance. Unfortunately, Nicole Kidman's perfect complexion and carefully made-up demeanor work against any verisimilitude as Patti, the loyal, loving wife of an introverted man with dark secrets; once beyond her looks, however, she does an earnest capable job in the undemanding role. The rest of the film's cast is also fine; Jeremy Irvine does well as the young Eric, who convinces viewers that he could age into Colin Firth. Stellan Skarsgard has a short, but effective role, as Finlay, the mature version of Lomax's prison mate, who helps Patti delve into Eric's past. Tanroh Ishida and Hiroyuki Sanada are excellent in key roles as Japanese guard and interpreter.

Unlike the David Lean classic, "The Railway Man" is no action thriller, but rather a psychological examination of the lingering effects of war's brutalities on the survivors, both the victors and the vanquished. Colin Firth gives another powerful, if underplayed, performance in a still rising career of memorable roles; Firth alone is reason enough to see the movie. At times, director Jonathan Teplitzky is a bit too arty for the film's good; his wide-screen images are sometimes self-consciously composed; and holding the camera on static shots of characters thinking or remembering may be mesmerizing for some viewers, but tedious for others. However, despite pacing issues, most evident early in the film, patient viewers will be rewarded with a powerful heartfelt closing that should stimulate the tear ducts.