Hollywood dictates that rebels ride motorbikes and look like James Dean or Steve McQueen. Not so in Tom McCarthy's The Station Agent. Finbar McBride (Peter Dinklage) breaks the mould as a dwarf who opts out of society because of the unwanted attention his appearance invites - he may be a loner, but he'd look very silly trying to straddle a Harley. No wonder the studios wouldn't touch it. But this is a gem of a movie that, like its protagonist, boasts a fiercely independent spirit full of discreet optimism and deadpan humour.
When Fin inherits a derelict train depot in rural New Jersey, he can't wait to escape the brashness of New York. But solitude is hard to come by in the small town of Newfoundland, especially as extrovert hotdog vendor Joe (Bobby Cannavale) is permanently parked on his doorstep. Then there's highly-strung artist Olivia (Patricia Clarkson), who manages to run Fin off the road every time he ventures out for a pint of milk.
In spite of himself, Fin gets tangled up in their personal dramas to the point that he becomes emotionally involved. It's only when these newly forged bonds are tested that he finally opens his eyes to a broader view of the world, and his place in it.
"SKILFULLY LIGHT TOUCH"
Dinklage is impressive, holding the weight of the film with mere scraps of dialogue and the heavy brow of disenchantment. Clarkson, meanwhile, performs a masterful balancing act of mildly hysterical spun with comic finesse, underpinned by deep sorrow, and Cannavale lends a breezy air playing the lovable goof.
Weaving it all together, writer/director McCarthy shows a skilfully light touch. His attention to the import of quiet moments between people helps shape a beautifully simple and sensitive portrait of humanity. A minor criticism is that it's sometimes a little too quaint, which, ironically, serves like a barrier to the inner-life of the characters. Nonetheless, there's a definite nobility in small things that means The Station Agent towers above the Hollywood mainstream.
The Station Agent (2004)
