Leave No Trace Review - Humanism and Ecology 14/07/18
There is a moment in Leave No Trace in which young Tom (Thomasin McKenzie) holds dozens of bees in her hand, recalling an earlier line: “It’s an honour to have the trust of a group of animals that could kill you if they wanted to.” This reverence towards nature, based on understanding, respect, and the joyful appreciation of its beauty, underscores Debra Granik’s new film throughout.
Tom and Will (Ben Foster) live deep in a National Park in Oregon, isolated and peaceful. They build fires, cut mushrooms, live sustainably from the Earth and drink water from the sky. Will homeschools Tom, and their interaction with the outside world extends only to supermarkets and the War Vet medical centre Will attends, to collect his prescription of opioids to sell for cash. Of course, this doesn’t last when Tom is accidentally spotted in the park near their camp.
What follows is understated, observant drama of the highest quality. The film follows our two characters closely, as they defy the expectations of ourselves and others. It is a subtle portrayal of two people at odds with the society, for different reasons, and is a meditation on the respect we should give to the world around us, to the freedoms that each of us has.
As with her previous film Winter’s Bone, Granik’s film is about much more than its elegantly simple drama suggests. Without spoiling too much, we get glimpses into they myriad problems of Middle America, of the people on the fringes forgotten or ignored by the rest of society. The opioid crisis that has decimated the lives of millions, the stifling bureaucracy of social services that never fails to alienate, the isolation and loneliness of America’s veterans, and the lack of mental health support for them, our simultaneous destruction and love of nature (and our attempts to control it), and the need for community and support wherever you may be. All of these things play a part in Leave No Trace, but never ham-handedly, never without the delicateness and ease of telling that Granik consistently (in her documentaries too) displays. For as these people and issues are in the margins of American life, so too are they in the margins of the film. In throwaway lines, half heard conversations, or (when the film is at its best) in the background of shots, shown but not forced on us. Tom and Will are without a doubt the film’s primary concern, and their performances are spot-on, effortlessly gliding around the possible stereotypes of teenage histrionics and PTSD-afflicted outbursts. Instead, Foster and McKenzie have built as solid a parent-child relationship as you will find anywhere in film.
Conversations in Leave No Trace more often than not are a series of observations than chatter - perhaps a symptom (or effect, indeed) of Tom’s lack of socialisation as a child. They are acute, perceptive observations that range from the simple to the profound and often blurring the lines between the two. Most touching is a short friendship that grows from Tom’s encounter with a rabbit on a farm. Nature so often catalyses a relationship, a moment of kindness, or a moment to think in the film. Horses, bees, dogs, forest walks all inject moments of warm intimacy and calm, peaceful reflection.
Leave No Trace is a beautiful, ecological film, entirely humanist in its optimistic view of people. Everyone we meet is kind, helpful and decent, even while their situations could prevent them from being so. We believe it too, because Granik believes it so fully and this fact never feels cloying or false. We are observers to Tom and Will, and the opportunity is an honour.
by Jack Buchanan
Tom and Will (Ben Foster) live deep in a National Park in Oregon, isolated and peaceful. They build fires, cut mushrooms, live sustainably from the Earth and drink water from the sky. Will homeschools Tom, and their interaction with the outside world extends only to supermarkets and the War Vet medical centre Will attends, to collect his prescription of opioids to sell for cash. Of course, this doesn’t last when Tom is accidentally spotted in the park near their camp.
What follows is understated, observant drama of the highest quality. The film follows our two characters closely, as they defy the expectations of ourselves and others. It is a subtle portrayal of two people at odds with the society, for different reasons, and is a meditation on the respect we should give to the world around us, to the freedoms that each of us has.
As with her previous film Winter’s Bone, Granik’s film is about much more than its elegantly simple drama suggests. Without spoiling too much, we get glimpses into they myriad problems of Middle America, of the people on the fringes forgotten or ignored by the rest of society. The opioid crisis that has decimated the lives of millions, the stifling bureaucracy of social services that never fails to alienate, the isolation and loneliness of America’s veterans, and the lack of mental health support for them, our simultaneous destruction and love of nature (and our attempts to control it), and the need for community and support wherever you may be. All of these things play a part in Leave No Trace, but never ham-handedly, never without the delicateness and ease of telling that Granik consistently (in her documentaries too) displays. For as these people and issues are in the margins of American life, so too are they in the margins of the film. In throwaway lines, half heard conversations, or (when the film is at its best) in the background of shots, shown but not forced on us. Tom and Will are without a doubt the film’s primary concern, and their performances are spot-on, effortlessly gliding around the possible stereotypes of teenage histrionics and PTSD-afflicted outbursts. Instead, Foster and McKenzie have built as solid a parent-child relationship as you will find anywhere in film.
Conversations in Leave No Trace more often than not are a series of observations than chatter - perhaps a symptom (or effect, indeed) of Tom’s lack of socialisation as a child. They are acute, perceptive observations that range from the simple to the profound and often blurring the lines between the two. Most touching is a short friendship that grows from Tom’s encounter with a rabbit on a farm. Nature so often catalyses a relationship, a moment of kindness, or a moment to think in the film. Horses, bees, dogs, forest walks all inject moments of warm intimacy and calm, peaceful reflection.
Leave No Trace is a beautiful, ecological film, entirely humanist in its optimistic view of people. Everyone we meet is kind, helpful and decent, even while their situations could prevent them from being so. We believe it too, because Granik believes it so fully and this fact never feels cloying or false. We are observers to Tom and Will, and the opportunity is an honour.
by Jack Buchanan
