Quella fantastica pazza ferrovia

THE RAILWAY CHILDREN is the most famous film to have been based on a book by the great Victorian author Edith Nesbit, a woman who was equally happy writing ghost stories and stories for children. This 1905-set story see a trio of children with an unhappy background going to live in a run-down house in Yorkshire. They befriend a local station master and most of their adventures are centred around a local railway line and station. The attention to detail is spot on and there's instant nostalgia from the depiction of a long-forgotten world.

Lionel Jeffries was an expert at his craft and this was obviously a labour of love for him, given that he served as both writer and director. And THE RAILWAY CHILDREN is a classic for a reason: it's a pure feel-good film that manages to create a cheerful, joyous atmosphere without ever coming across as twee or schmaltzy. Jenny Agutter and the other children are the focus of the story, but it's Bernard Cribbins as the lovable Perks who really steals all of the scenes in which he appears.

What I particularly liked about this story is that it isn't sugar coated. Injustice, illness, and injury all play a big part here, and it's noticeable how all the best children's films deal with adult themes alongside the kiddie stuff. One scene, involving an injured boy on the line, is more than reminiscent of a public safety film from the 1970s. Overall THE RAILWAY CHILDREN is pure feel-good entertainment and a film it would be tough for anybody to dislike.

Back in 1970 at the tender age of 23, I fell hopelessly in love with Jenny Agutter - and remain so to this day. For it is this film for which she will always be associated - and for the very best reasons. It in no way typecast Miss Agutter, but clearly marked her as an actress of outstanding ability.

Nesbit's characters are brought to life by Lionel Jeffries production in what must be one of literature's most heart rending stories. It has everything - pathos, compassion, empathy, humour, loyalty and love, attributes once common in Great Britain, but sadly no longer.

Who can suppress those tears at Bobby's discovery of her Father at the station. "My Daddy... my Daddy...!" as she runs towards him?

This film should be available on prescription - it is indeed a tonic for whatever ails you.

As for my love of Miss Agutter - it remains undiminished, and when I see her today, I still see that porcelain complexion, those bewitching eyes and that come hither smile.

This is a film that I love above all others. I try to revisit the main film locations in Oakworth and Oxenhope whenever I can, which help to re-establish those magical qualities that this film seems to embody so uniquely - recalling a gentler and more mannered age, with its unspoken assertions that people really do matter, that family life is not just another disposable, and that life really is worth living (though sometimes, we may doubt that). In short, a film that soon brings tears to my eyes, helped perhaps by the deeply evocative music - some tunes are jaunty (like the Perks' tune, played on a trombone, sometimes with spoons), the stirring melody when the family first set off for Yorkshire not knowing what lies ahead, and the haunting little tune played on a solo clarinet (or is it an oboe?) that precedes sudden child-felt changes in fortune.

This is as much a film for adults as for children, appealing to the eternal child in us all - a key that effortlessly reactivates those deep and apparently long-lost values and feelings buried inside us, which are normally swept aside by the demands of modern everyday life. This is a film about basic human goodness and decency in which we the viewers are left to make of it what we will, and there are welcome touches of humour sometimes added for good measure, such as the arrival of the aunt or, on a more earthy level, the bedroom scene on Perks' birthday - "All right Bert - as it's your birthday!" I must know every scene, every line of this film, and yet so great is the magic that each time I watch, it is like I am opening a box of delights for the first time, savouring each moment - sometimes humorous, sometimes....well, very different. As Peter says in the film: "it's perfect - more perfect than you know". And so it is!!!

Other reviewers covered everything great, about this movie. I saw it once, on broadcast TV, even before the advent of video tape,, and always wanted to own it. In the ensuing forty seven years,,, for some reason, it has NEVER been available in America; Region 2 - England - only. The Big Questions is -- WHY?? Why doesn't a multi-national outfit like Amazon, have an American format for this DVD? WHY???

The Railway Children was on TV again this weekend, and I had forgotten how good it was.

If I have a criticism, it is that the episodic structure sometimes shows a little too clearly, there being little narrative flow from sequence to sequence. The charm and beauty of the film are such that this matters very little, however.

I won't revisit the comments of others, other than to add my vote for the final scene on the platform as being possibly the single most emotional scene in the history of British cinema: as a cynical old git passing through middle age rather too quickly I, too, find I cannot even think of that moment without being hit with a severe case of "I've got something in my eye." In fact, it's not just something in my eye, it moves things around inside me, too, with that beautiful happy pain we sometimes feel.

And Jenny Agutter was exquisitely beautiful in this film, standing with one foot in childhood and one in young womanhood, and bringing qualities of both to her portrayal of a girl having to grow up rather too quickly.

Plus a quick plaudit for Bernard Cribbins. Regarded mostly as a lightweight actor, he deftly created a Perks of great humanity.