Review: The Railway Man

Whilst attempting to write this review, I found that my thoughts weren’t easily translating into words. That, I suspect, tells you something about the emotional pull of this film: it submerges you so successfully into the protagonist’s shattered mind that the horrors of war become unfathomable.

The Railway Man is based on the true story, and subsequent book, of Eric Lomax. He was a soldier captured by the Japanese in World War Two, and forced to build a railway in his surrendered army of de facto slaves. He was also tortured by the Imperial military police, which is never nice. The setting is pure The Bridge on the River Kwai, but the story is more akin to the The Deer Hunter: Lomax remains trapped in his war for decades. Having always been interested in trains, on civvy street the fragile Lomax has become obsessed, sinking into old railway timetables instead of facing his demons. Thankfully his new wife is not so ensnared in the past, and thus is able to help break the omerta that imprisons her husband in emotional confinement. What really helps Lomax to regain control over his life, and which makes this story so interesting, is his meeting the Japanese officer who tortured him, Takashi Nagase. Forgiveness is, fairly obviously, central to the narrative.

The film weaves between events surrounding Lomax and Nagase’s meeting and flashbacks to the nascent railway in 1940s Asia. We glimpse the brutal abuse and murder which was meted out to so many men in that situation, then fast forward to the ceaseless repercussions. The two men finally coming face to face serves as the climax, and maybe it has had the movie gloss treatment. There was no confrontation, surprise or re-enactment in reality, and apparently the two men hit it off immediately. The story is also fairly predictable and the outcome expected, but because it hasn’t been imagined by a scriptwriting hack it becomes all the more powerful.

Colin Firth is perfectly cast as the elder Lomax. On numerous occasions Firth has played men quietly stewing in turmoil, and here you can almost see the barely hidden emotions churning under his stiff upper lip exterior. The younger Lomax (Jeremy Irvine) turns out an equally impressive performance. Holding his own opposite such an experienced actor is quite an achievement, but he had more high-drama and physicality to squeeze in as well. Nicole Kidman is forgettable as Lomax’s wife. In reality, Patti was a headstrong and resourceful person, but here she is waifish and unremarkable, all deference and cardigans. She just did not have enough character to break the wall of silence in a convincing fashion. What eased the inter-generational story into believable territory is the successful matching of WWII era Lomax and Nagase (Tanroh Ishada) with older 1980s Lomax and Nagase (Hiroyuki Sanada). The younger actors captured the mannerisms of Firth and Sanada in extraordinary detail, foreshadowing the mournful movements of their sad future selves. Swedish actor Stellan Skarsgard is oddly cast as a British veteran who does not manage to escape his past.

The Railway Man tries hard to illustrate the horrifying effects of war. But, more broadly, it shows how easily humanity can both fall apart and reform. Despite this, it is the restrained emotional performances which capture life’s brutal realities as best an artistic recreation can. The Railway Man may not be the greatest film about humanity’s ability to destroy itself, but in my mind it is a tearjerkingly good attempt.