Les enfants du chemin de fer

...apparently Bernard Cribbins ad libbed nearly all of his lines. If you can sit through the 'Daddy! Oh my daddy" bit without blubbing then you really need to get in touch with your inner child (trust me. I'm a 41 year old bloke).

This almost perfect cinematic rendition of Edith Nesbit's popular children's novel follows the lives of Roberta (Bobbie), Phyllis, and Peter, and their mother, after their father is unfairly accused of treason and sent to prison. They go to live in an almost uninhabitable house in the country which stands near a railway line – mum writes stories to make enough money for food and candles, while the children spend much of their time around the railway station and, specifically, waving to one particular train to 'send their love to father'.

Always an involving and clever novel, the characters are here brought to life under the perceptive direction of Lionel Jeffries (better known as a fine character actor). Jenny Agutter plays Bobbie, while Sally Thomsett and Gary Warren are her sister and brother. Their mother is Dinah Sheridan, while the other memorable characters are played by Bernard Cribbins (Perks the railway-man) and William Mervyn (the old gentleman on the train).

'The Railway Children' is gentle entertainment from another age, but does its job beautifully. As we watch Bobbie grow up with the worries of an absent parent jostling against her own needs both to be alone and to have fun, we can only rejoice when events come together at the close of the picture. Throughout we have a sense of time and place – be it from the steam trains, the university paper chase, or the red flannelette petticoats worn by the girls (and used to avert disaster!).

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.

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!!!

Edith Nesbitt's best book has been adapted into a truly magnificent film, I love it. The film itself has gorgeous cinematography, and fine realisation of the subject matter. The ending is enough to have you in tears, as it is so beautifully done. Lionel has directed some truly excellent films, like the Amazing Mr Blunden, but this is his best film as director by a mile. The costumes were absolutely lovely, that matched the beauty of the countryside, and the sparkling and conveniently-faithful script helped matters. However, it is the quality of the acting that holds this film together, as it is nothing shorter than incredible. Dinah Sheridan is suitably sincere as the mother, a much-needed characteristic of the character, and Bernard Cribbins was hilarious as Perks. In fact, I preferred Perks on film, as he isn't as humorous in the book. The children were perfect. Gary Warren and Sally Thomsett both gave spirited performances, but it is Jenny Agutter's enchanting portrayal of Bobbie that impressed me the most. Another special mention is the gorgeous music by Johnny Douglas, the title music reminded me of Charlie Chaplin's Smile. In conclusion, a funny and poignant masterpiece, that is better than the book, I think. 10/10. Bethany Cox.