dir. Debra Granik
writ. Debra Granik and
Anne Rosselini, novel by Peter Rock (My Abandonment)
feat. Thomasin McKenzie, Ben
Foster
A father and his daughter live in the wet green wilderness,
foraging for food, water, and firewood, tending to their camouflaged camp and
each other. Why they hide, we don't know, but they're steering clear of
parkland personnel. Dad runs drills to see how quickly Tom can hide without
showing tracks by which pursuers could find her. When she does poorly, they do
it again. Only when they trek to the city do we know Portland, Oregon is
nearby, though the stunningly photographed, damp dense forest screams Pacific
Northwest.
And so starts Leave No Trace, landing the viewer in an unfamiliar
world, nesting with two loving fugitives in their private paradise.
The story plays out
beautifully and deliberately, that city trip revealing Dad’s veteran status,
subsequent stops hinting at the opioid epidemic which seems to have strafed
Dad's life, though he's clean. When Tom is spotted and the two are subsequently
caught, their peaceful world is overturned. What follows is a fearful journey
for the two, questions about their lives and Dad's mental well-being, as well
as what's good for a developing child, and who should decide that answer. Their
heartache, how they miss each other as they go through the bureaucracy's
judgmental gauntlet is palpable. Better still is the humanity shown even by
those bureaucrats, social workers who aren't just enforcing laws but also
aiming to help the family. It's these touches that lend the film such depth, no
easy answers to who is right or wrong.
They are thrown into
unfamiliar social situations, and without backstory it's unclear if Tom has
ever been around people, perhaps all social situations new and strange. Upon
being reunited, the pair's world has changed, the societal rules pressing into
their dimension. This feels unfair, the arguable paradise of their initial
world challenged by the flat walls of an ordinary domicile. But, it's all of
life and opportunity at stake here, and what's best for Dad might not be the
same for Tom. And what if Dad doesn't have the capacity to judge that
correctly.
The drama that comes on the
path of figuring out those answers is powerful and intimate, with single lines
of dialogue changing the dynamic between the pair. Dad’s needs play against
daughter’s, and the middle ground proves elusive. At its heart, the film is
about the damage that one can and can’t endure, and the life one must live even
if that's at odds with the needs of a loved one, forcing changes in the
relationship. This complicated territory is challenging even to describe, and
the elegance and simplicity with which the film delivers messages and emotional
punch without sacrificing love or ever seeming less than completely genuine is
astounding.
Of course, films fall into categories and subcategories, genres
and story types, and I find that most films show themselves in the first few
minutes and you know what you’re in for. Not every twist and turn or the
precise ending, but you get the drill and could map out much of what’s to come.
Much of the joy of watching Leave No Trace comes in not knowing what comes
next. Of course, a few key conflicts will come. We do start with a school-age
kid hiding on public land. But nearly everything else is a surprise, detail
after detail of discovery, each new location and world unexpected, natural, and
special. That's rare in films, particularly American ones, and it swells the
heart to share Tom and her father's ride through earnest life adventures.
