Leaving a Trace

The father/daughter dynamic is a tricky one in real life and almost as tricky to portray on film. Disclosure: I’m not a parent. Whether that makes it easier for me to observe such interactions dispassionately or impossible to grasp them emotionally, I cannot judge – maybe both are true.

There are, of course, many kinds of relationships; fathers are variously portrayed on the screen as over-protective, bewildered, tyrannical, aloof, doting, creepy, or absent. Daughters, among other possibilities, are rebellious, fawning, or manipulative. (Louis C.K.’s movie I Love You, Daddy [2017] about the last sort may never see general release, consigned as he is to the woodshed for reasons other than fatherhood.) Real relationships are combinations of all those characteristics and more. Few films are good at capturing them. Strangely, the series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, of all productions, did a pretty good job portraying the complexities in the relationship of Buffy and Giles (a father figure rather than biological dad) and, stranger yet, of Faith and the villain Mayor Wilkins. A rather more credible setting than vampire-infested Sunnydale, however, can be found in Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace, currently in theaters. The movie is based on the novel My Abandonment by Peter Rock, who was inspired by an actual news story from 2004 of a man found living in the woods with his daughter for years. Debra Granik and Anne Rossellini wrote the screenplay adaptation.

Some *spoilers*:

There are more than a few people who are unwilling or unable to live in “normal” society with its endless rules and requirements. To the extent possible they live on the fringe, actually preferring to fall through the cracks. One such man is Will (Ben Foster), a veteran with PTSD and a thousand-yard stare who feels at ease only in the forest away from all people except his 13-year-old daughter Tom (Thomasin McKenzie). They camp in Forest Park, a 5,200-acre tract in Portland, Oregon, and live almost entirely off the land. Their rare excursions into town are only so he can pick up his meds, sell them for cash to other (albeit less isolated) fringe-dwellers, and buy a few basic supplies. Will’s affection for Tom is deep and genuine as is hers for her father. A small mistake causes them to be spotted in the woods by authorities, which leads to their apprehension and separation; once authorities are convinced Tom isn’t abused, they are reunited in arranged housing, but the heavy bureaucratic hand of social services, however well meaning, is precisely the kind of control and human contact that he can’t stand. They pack up and head for the state of Washington where they again go into the deep woods, but Tom, who has had a taste of civilization, is not enthusiastic. She goes only out of love for her father. Will accidentally injures himself so Tom seeks help from residents of an RV park at the edge of the forest. By average standards, they, too, are fringe-dwellers, but by her standards their encampment is civilization. When Will is ready to head into the woods again, Tom no longer wants to join him; she chooses to remain with the RVs. “The same thing that is wrong with you isn’t wrong with me,” she correctly tells him. He doesn’t argue.

Will is portrayed sympathetically even when he makes plainly awful decisions. Will’s love for his daughter is real, and at no point does Tom even think to regard him as a villain, but of course he is. He may not be at fault for his problems, but he is at fault for making his 13-year-old daughter share them. We all make choices. We don’t always have good choices, but we always have some and they have consequences. He should have chosen something better for his daughter while choosing for her was still his responsibility. Love doesn’t make up for it. It counts, but it doesn’t override. Tom makes her own choice finally, which mirrors the choice all offspring make when they are ready to strike out on their own paths. 

Thumbs Up, but not for those who like only action movies.

Trailer – Leave No Trace