"The same thing that's wrong with you isn't wrong with me."
It is worth paying attention to the leads in Debra Granik’s
films because twice now she has launched the prolific careers of two actors
with each successive film that introduced them to the world. The first was in
2004 when ‘Down to the Bone’ gave way to a number of acclaimed roles for Vera
Farmiga, then again in 2010 when ‘Winter’s Bone’ kick started Jenifer Lawrence’s
superstar career. So her third feature ‘Leave No Trace’ is certainly nothing to
overlook, both due to what it could yield for the actors involved as well as
its masterful quality.
Will (Ben Foster) and his daughter Tom (Thomasin McKenzie)
live a perfect but mysterious existence in Forest Park, a beautiful nature
reserve near Portland, Oregon, rarely making contact with the world. But when a
small mistake tips them off to authorities, they are sent on an increasingly erratic
journey in search of a place to call their own.
Granik’s films have displayed strong themes of personal
willpower, as well as an undercurrent of social critique. Those two elements
are once again very pertinent in her latest feature, as on the one hand ‘Leave
No Trace’ is a character study of two deeply connected people slowly coming to
terms with the fact that they each have fundamentally different outlooks on life.
Despite a laser focus on those two characters, it is hard not to grasp the
underlying message Granik is also looking to convey as she provides a snapshot
of people trying to piece their lives back together.
What makes those thematic messages feel so powerful is
Granik’s complete trust in her audience and confidence in her own visual
storytelling. The first act of ‘Leave No Trace’ contains minimal dialogue and
yet Granik presents such an acute portrait of two people, how they live and how
they relate to one another that it is quite simply astounding. Not only does
the film open its story with no dialogue, it makes the absence of speech a
fundamental part of its storytelling. We get an intuitive sense of just how
deeply connected this father and daughter bond is, how their routines unfold
and how they possess an intuitive understanding of each other. We are never
told exactly how long the two have been living outside of civilisation, but
their interaction makes us subconsciously aware that it has been long enough to
a point where they are instinctively accustomed to this way of life.
The fact that the characterisations are so strong from the
start is a testament to the incredible performances of McKenzie and Foster. Just
their very movement and interaction communicates volumes, which is likely why
Granik so often uses her frames to emphasize those movements in all their
detail. As the movie progresses, so do their performances as they add new
layers of depth to their characters. Foster portrays a man who either refuses,
or simply is incapable, of fitting into a larger world. His deep seated scars
and trauma are clear but never overwhelming in his performance as Foster takes
the time to craft a fully realised character before revealing those layers as
the film progresses.
Simultaneously it’s McKenzie who has to adjust the most in
her performance through the film. Going from the naïve bewilderment of suddenly
being plunged into a new world once she and her father are uprooted, her character
must go through the disenchantment of realising that her father is damaged in
ways she cannot understand. McKenzie handles and conveys each step of this
development with such brilliant precision and naturalism that it can be difficult
to remember you are merely watching a performance. Her emotive responses feel
so perfectly restrained so as to not clash with the reserved young woman who is
introduced, but not vague enough so as to not give the audience a clear picture
of what she is going through.
In fact the film as a whole strikes a similar balance of
tone. Though it would be easy to tell this story in absolutes due to the
bleakness of its premise, Granik finds optimism and moments of beauty in this
tale of disenfranchisement. She makes this story solely about the people at its
core and how their emotional state changes and evolves through their
experiences. Everyone is portrayed with nuance, with no attempt to vilify or vindicate
anyone in particular. Even the authorities who disrupt the father and daughter’s
isolated lives are doing so with the best of intentions, and though the world
of society is colder and clinical compared to the wilderness, there are plenty
of people willing to help the two outcasts navigate their way through it.
There are too many moments of unspoken subtleties within ‘Leave
No Trace’ to count. Moments that are never explicitly told to us but
communicate a vastness of depth regarding the characters and world. We don’t
need to be told why the sound of a helicopter passing overhead causes a moment
of distress for Will, or why Tom continues to follow him despite her better
judgement. They are simply too obvious to be worth saying.
Beautifully nuanced in its execution yet powerful in its
emotional prowess, ‘Leave No Trace’ is a masterful story of two people that
reflects a much wider social critique.
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