Felicity Jones on the Unconscious Echoes Between Train Dreams and The Brutalist  

Felicity Jones isn’t concerned with the when or the what as long as the words make an impression.

The English actor’s two new movies, Train Dreams and Oh. What. Fun., couldn’t be more different, but both projects offered Jones hard-working young mothers in uniquely different circumstances a century apart. While Train Dreams is an early 20th century drama and Oh. What. Fun. is a modern-day Christmas family comedy, both tales struck a chord and passed her very simple test.

“It’s always, ‘What is the story? What is the story saying? Is it well written?’ Not many people are that good at writing. It’s the quality of what I’m getting into that matters,” Jones tells The Hollywood Reporter in support of Train Dreams’ Nov. 21 Netflix release and Oh. What. Fun.’s Dec. 3 Prime Video release.

Jones shot Clint Bentley’s Train Dreams and Michael Showalter’s Oh. What. Fun. back to back before The Brutalist’s September 2024 premiere at the Venice Film Festival, kicking off a whirlwind awards season that culminated in her second Oscar nomination. Based on Denis Johnson’s novella, Train Dreams chronicles Robert (Joel Edgerton) and Gladys Grainier’s marriage amidst the challenges of Robert’s occupation as a logger and railroad worker, requiring him to be away from Gladys and their young child for prolonged periods of time.

The Grainiers’ marriage is relatively similar to The Brutalist‘s distant marriage between Erzsébet and László Tóth, which Jones depicted opposite Adrien Brody in Brady Corbet’s historical epic. The key difference, though, is that Robert Grainier’s utmost priority is always Gladys and their child. They are top of mind regardless of where his work takes him. He never keeps them at arm’s length like László tended to do to Erzsébet, even when they were no longer separated by different continents. Oddly enough, because Jones was immersed in the literal and figurative forests of the Pacific Northwest, she didn’t stop to consider the 30,000-foot view until now.

“I never consciously connected the two [marriages]. Both films are asking much bigger questions about identity and purpose, and it’s only on reflection that I’ve realized that there is continuity between them,” Jones admits. “So the similarities were more unconscious than conscious.”

In Oh. What. Fun., Jones plays Channing, a murder-mystery novelist who is trying to break free of her original family’s holiday traditions in favor of starting anew with her own young family. This comes as heartbreaking news to her type-A family matriarch, Claire Clauster (Michelle Pfeiffer), and through Pfeiffer’s character, the Christmas dramedy goes on to explore how underappreciated and overlooked maternal figures are during the holidays, especially in holiday movies.

“Michelle Pfeiffer is one of the best actors of all time, so it was an absolute no-brainer,” Jones says. “I love the idea of it being Home Alone, but rather than a little boy who’s left behind, it’s the mom.”

The Brutalist ends on László Tóth’s belief that the destination is more important than the journey. It’s a philosophy that makes sense for someone who endured numerous unimaginable hardships before and during his two-plus decade quest to complete the Van Buren Institute project. Conversely, actors often say that the journey, meaning the filming experience, is most significant to them because they don’t control a film’s final cut, release date, marketing campaign and reception. In general, Jones falls into that line of thinking, but her experience as the star of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story did result in her reconciling those two opposing viewpoints.

The prequel to Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) had a famously rocky production that required extensive reshoots and story changes. But it amounted to a well-received film that grossed over a billion dollars, and in the near decade since its release, it’s aged the most favorably among critics and fans. It’s the one Disney-produced Star Wars film that has the most agreement and least amount of division. Tony Gilroy’s celebrated prequel series, Andor, has also made Rogue One rewatches even richer.

For Jones, the Rogue One experience taught her that sometimes the destination is what matters most.

“I think that’s so true, and it’s a bit of a paradox, isn’t it? For the audience receiving it, they don’t care what happened or what struggles were involved. It’s whether the story works,” Jones says. “I guess it’s a bit like the Jyn Erso story in Rogue One. You are handing it on, aren’t you? It then moves over to the audience, and the audience will then make of it what they will.”

Below, during a recent conversation with THR, Jones also discusseshow an unexpected belch from a baby turned into one of Train Dreams‘ most memorable scenes.

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Train Dreams is a decades-spanning period piece, and it seems like most of your work falls outside of modern day. Your other new movie, Oh. What. Fun., is actually set in present day, and it got me thinking about how my strongest association between you and modern day goes all the way back to 2011’s Like Crazy. Do you feel more at home in the past? Or are you just going through the doors that open?

I don’t necessarily feel more at home in the past, but yeah, the doors that open are a big part of any decision-making. It’s always, “What is the story? What is the story saying? Is it well written?” Not many people are that good at writing. So when you read something that is incredibly well written and someone has a talent for it, then it doesn’t really matter to me when it’s set. It’s the quality of what I’m getting into that matters.

Due to last year’s award season ending only eight months ago, it’s hard not to compare and contrast the Grainier marriage to the Tóth marriage. They both endure distance in different ways, but even when the Tóths are finally reunited, László (Adrien Brody) is so consumed by his work that he keeps Erzsébet at arm’s length. Conversely, Gladys and Kate are Robert’s (Joel Edgerton) sole focus no matter where he is. So how did you process the two marriages having just come out of The Brutalist?

It’s so funny because I never consciously connected the two of them. It’s only now, really, that I feel there’s such a continuation of themes and, as you say, echoes and similarities. But what that must be saying is that the filmmakers are channeling something. Both films are asking much bigger questions about identity and purpose, and it’s only on reflection that I’ve realized that there is continuity between them.

I approached them on their own terms, and once I say yes to something, I’m all in. The similarities [between characters] are usually quite technical. I like to wear wigs. I like to work a lot on the movement of the characters and their voices. Navigating a real-life person can also help me inform the person that is being created. But beyond that, I tend to get completely molecular. So the similarities were more unconscious than conscious.

I just spoke to a director who loves to have his on-screen couples go grocery shopping and cook dinner together. To build the Grainier relationship on screen, did you mostly rely on your ability to sell the text on the page? Or did you try to find connection points with Joel?

When you start out, you generally have a lot more time. You have less responsibilities in your life, so there’s so much more time. With Like Crazy, Anton [Yelchin] and I spent a lot of time with [director] Drake [Doremus], and we hung out the entire time that we were making that film. It was so much an exploration of our friendships as much as anything else.

And then, as you get older and you have more responsibilities in your private life, navigating your working life becomes a different thing. So much of this process is trust, and so your way of navigating who you can and can’t trust becomes much quicker. You become much better at figuring it out. Therefore, if you already have that trust that I instinctively had with Clint [Bentley] and Joel, then you can jump in much more readily and be much more open. So you trust your instincts as you get older.

The photo shoot with the belching baby, did you initially react as Felicity before rolling with it in the moment? Or was it always your character’s reaction to the random burp?

Well, my goal was always that it’s Gladys.

You obviously weren’t expecting that sound to happen.

No, of course not. That’s the magic of cinema. But in order to have that moment happen and for it to feel that natural, you have to do a lot of groundwork to allow something spontaneous to happen and still be able to react in character.

I thought that it was quite an important and key scene for Gladys. There’s no dialogue in it, and it’s all about her excitement. It’s a bit of a break from the sheer hard work of her everyday existence. She did the back-breaking work of washing clothes and hunting for food [and raising a child alone for long stretches of time]. So given the sheer tedium of her existence, that photograph is a really rare and special day for the Grainier family. She’s completely happy during her big day out.

Every time Robert returns home from a far-away job, he notices how much he’s missed out on in that gap of time. You’ve also worked abroad for ages now, so is that a feeling you know quite well whenever you return home?

Yeah, it’s the nature of being a gypsy and having a gypsy lifestyle. There’s always a little bit of disconnect when you reimmerse yourself in your home life, and the film navigates how one manages that. It’s like being a sailor or something. You go on these adventures, and once you come back, it does take a moment for adjustment to happen.

So when you first heard the phrase, “shoplifting with Michelle Pfieffer,” was that all you needed to hear in order to commit to Oh. What. Fun.?

(Laughs.) Yeah, I was all in. Absolutely. Oh. What. Fun. was a brilliant script. It was really witty, and it was coming with such a brilliant cast. Michelle Pfeiffer is one of the best actors of all time, so it was an absolute no-brainer.

It has some dramatic material, but after so many dramatic roles that have put you through the emotional wringer, did you welcome the more comedic change of pace?

Yeah, I loved it. Again, when it’s good writing, the genre doesn’t really matter. The cast was also incredibly idiosyncratic. I love the idea of it being Home Alone, but rather than a little boy who’s left behind, it’s the mom. I thought it was a great premise for a film.

Oh. What. Fun. makes a valid point that so many holiday movies overlook the Herculean effort made by the family matriarch. I actually felt a bit guilty because my mom is so much like Michelle’s character, and neither gets the credit they deserve, admittedly. Did this subject resonate with you?

Yeah, the default person who does all the shopping and holiday preparation is often the mother, and that definitely comes with its pressures. But I love that it was exploring those mother figures who don’t often get to be at the center of a film. So there’s something very special about Oh. What. Fun. because it’s an entertaining comedy that also offers a lens on female life we don’t see very often.

There’s also the question of whether to carry on your family of origin’s traditions or start new traditions with the family you’ve created yourself. Do you find yourself preserving the traditions from your childhood? Or do you lean the way Channing leans in wanting to start your own?

No, I’ve definitely held onto the ways that we grew up with. It’s hard to shake them off. Channing does it so much more easily. We always have a present on Christmas Eve and read a story out loud, and then we always watch a movie on Christmas Day. Those are little traditions that I would hope to continue and give to my children.

This is the part of the interview where I force Star Wars into the conversation. Can you feel the difference that leading one of those movies has when trying to tip the scales on a smaller film’s chances of getting made?

I’ve always enjoyed going from bigger to smaller. With [my production banner] Piecrust, we have similar ambitions to go from films and TV projects on a larger scale with bigger conceits to much smaller worlds and intimate portraits. You realize that in being a part of those bigger, more commercial projects, you are then able to go and do more smaller independent films. I also realized quite early on that it can be interesting, creatively. But Star Wars is an incredible thing to be a part of, and it has really touched the zeitgeist in such a fundamental way. Perhaps no other film franchise has ever done or will ever do what Star Wars has.

Rogue One was well received at the time, and it certainly did well at the box office. But in terms of consensus among critics and fans, I would say that it’s aged the most favorably of all the Disney-produced Star Wars movies. Andor has probably helped bolster it. But given how challenging its production was, is its current standing all the more rewarding?

Well, I’m always stunned by how much that film registered. There was just something so human in it, and I think people really empathized with those characters. And because it was so grounded, you then can pivot off of that grounded human story into something more fantastical.

Actors often say that they cherish the experience, or the journey, the most, because they don’t control the destination, be it the edit, the release date, the marketing, the box office. But for the audience, it’s about the destination. Most people don’t care how a movie got made or how many days of reshoots it needed as long as the movie they paid to see is worth the price of admission. So is that the movie where you most realized that sometimes the destination matters most —and that it doesn’t really matter how you got there as long as you got there?

I think that’s so true, and it’s a bit of a paradox, isn’t it? For you, as the actor, the time that you’re making the movie is the only moment you have control. And yet, for the audience receiving it, as you say, they don’t care what happened or what struggles were involved. It’s whether the story works.

But at that point, when it goes out into the world, your job, as an actor, is done. I guess it’s a bit like the Jyn Erso story in Rogue One. You are handing it on, aren’t you? You have it for that time, and you do the best that you can with it. It then moves over to the audience, and the audience will then make of it what they will.

You never expected to pop up on Andor, right?

No, no. That was very much Cassian’s story.

Your final confrontation scene at the Van Buren mansion in The Brutalist still lingers in my mind. Did that day take a while to rinse off, so to speak?

When it was done, I was incredibly relieved. One of the schedules either had it on the first day or really high up [in the shooting order]. And I remember saying to Brady [Corbet], “Can I start with something that’s just a little bit lighter?” —not that anything was particularly light in The Brutalist. (Laughs.) So I just asked if we could start on something with less pressure, but because it was quite early on in the shooting schedule, I just had to be really prepared. It’s kind of boring, really. I just had to really know what I was doing.

The main thing that I was concerned with was her entrance into the scene and just getting that entrance right. It was like doing a play in many ways. Everyone on that film was so incredibly well prepared, and I’d been thinking about it and researching it for about two years before we shot it. I’d come onto that film very, very early. So by the time I came to shoot it, there was just no way I wasn’t going to know what I was doing. There was no room for maneuver. It was a gift to work with the brilliant actors in the film, and we all got there together with excellent writing.

I’m still amazed at the scope and scale that The Brutalist achieved on a small budget. Did you pocket any lessons that you might apply down the road to your producorial efforts with Piecrust?

Well, what made The Brutalist’s sense of scope and scale so magical is shooting on film. It smudges the edges. It gives a mystery. It’s transportative. You are not looking at the film and going, “Oh, it feels like it’s 2025, even though it’s supposed to be 1950.” Film gives a patina that transports the audience, and it somehow gives you more creative license.

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Train Dreams is now streaming on Netflix. Oh. What. Fun. streams Dec. 3 on Prime Video.