Memory is more vivid than reality, a scenic suggestion that for the characters, the past overshadows the present.īut a beautiful backdrop is nothing without suitable actors, and “The Railway Man” delivers in that regard.

Visually, Teplitzky barrages the audience with a mix of muted and vibrant colors in 1980s England, hues of grey, blue, and brown make up the color palate, a surprising contrast to the bright greens of 1930s World War II-era Thailand. As Lomax’s wife, Patti (Nicole Kidman), researches his past and looks into images of the war in his notebooks, a steady drumbeat drives the tense moments forward until the low percussion becomes a high-pitched buzz, paralleling the sketches’ downward spiral from images of capture to those of torture. The score reflects each moment’s mood, adding light to the romantic moments and darkness to any mention of the war. Scene after scene, director Jonathan Teplitzky employs deft cinematography, integrating thoughtful visuals with a fitting soundtrack. The introduction sets a reflective and philosophical tone, a tone carried throughout the film as Lomax tries to battle his inner demons from his war years. When the film begins, an older Lomax (Colin Firth) lying on the floor recites in a subdued, dead voice, “At the beginning of time, the clock struck one.” The camera trails from his feet to his face, a ghastly image when framed with the darkness and stream of light hitting his body.

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