The Station Agent
I had put off going to see The Station Agent. Something about the premise made me think, "typical indie movie more concerned with its own quirkiness than with telling a compelling story." I mean, come on. A loner dwarf inherits a train station in a small Jersey town and befriends a woman who is mourning the death of her son. Ho-hum, right? I couldn't have been more wrong.

Indeed, my one-sentence description contains virtually the entire plot of the film, but director Tom McCarthy uses the plot as a jumping-off point for a wonderful meditation on isolation and friendship. McCarthy is to be congratulated for his understated script, surehanded direction, solid visual sense, and most of all for maintaining the perfect tone throughout; wistful without being self-absorbed, funny without making fun, and moving without stooping to melodrama. There are many ways this film could have gone off the tracks, yet McCarthy's confidence in the material and actors is so strong that nothing about it feels contrived or unnecessary.

That said, this movie would be nothing without the remarkable performances of its three leads. Peter Dinklage is terrific as Finn, the diminutive inheritor of the station house. He never lapses into caricature, creating a believable portrait of a man who has his reasons for being a loner, but who can't but help gradually warming in some small part to the friendship of kindred spirits. Patricia Clarkson (whom you've seen many times before in smaller roles-you'll remember her name after seeing this film), creates a similarly authentic portrait of Olivia, a woman whose grief has caused her to retreat into isolation. Fortunately, the film isn't interested in using her personal tragedy as a springboard for Hollywood-style manipulative histrionics; rather, it informs the character, hanging on in the periphery as tragedy often does for real people. As in life, it's just there-we rarely have the luxury of a nice, neat catharsis to wrap things up for us. And Bobby Cannavale is winning as Joe, the garrulous Cuban-American exiled to the sticks to care for his sick father. Joe, in his desperation to have someone (anyone) to talk to, becomes the catalyst that sparks the friendship between Finn and Olivia. Joe, too, is transformed by his friendship with the other two-he starts the movie as the kind of guy that talks just to hear the wind whistle through his ears. While Finn and Olivia are drawn ever so slightly out of their isolation, Joe learns how to take some pleasure in silence. All three performances are great, not in the showy, theatrical way of "big" movies, but in their nuance; a look, a reaction, a physical choice here and there make all the difference.

Those seeking denouement will be disappointed; the film's ending is somewhat open-ended. Each character has made a small movement toward healthier relationships with other humans, and that's enough. To go further would be to betray the modest goals of a film that, as it is, precisely hits the target at which McCarthy is aiming. One of this year's best films; I give it 4.5 HO-scale trains out of 5.