A scene from Ran-hee Lee’s film A LEAVE. Courtesy of SFFILM
Ran-hee Lee’s unpretentious A Leaveis a surprisingly insightful slice-of-life into the modern global workplace. It opens on Day 1893 of a labor sit-in, as laid-off workers hold out to get reinstated in their longtime jobs. They have obviously lost this struggle a long while ago, although not everyone is ready to internalize that fact and move on. Middle-aged Jaebok, one of the sit-in;s remaining leaders, decides to take a leave from organizing that he characterizes as “like taking a leave from work”.
With some distance from the day-to-day campaign, he’s back in his apartment, and back to clogged drains and surly teenagers. He realizes that, without a paycheck, he cannot give his kids what they need (and his bright, promising older daughter needs college tuition). So, Jaebok finds a job in the new economy.
A scene from Ran-hee Lee’s film A LEAVE. Courtesy of SFFILM
It turns that his new job is as a temp contract worker in a sweat shop that supplies a big company like the one that laid him off. His new boss sells the opportunity with, “the company is disaster-free” – a low bar if ever there were one.
Jaebok, used to a decades-long career path with a single employer is puzzled by the revolving door of fellow workers. Only one young guy stays for more than a couple days, and many of the others must be undocumented immigrants working illegally.
The younger worker is not used to any continuity of co-workers – and not used to having relationships with his co-workers, something that Jaebok thinks is normal. The kid believes that asking for an eight hour shift is quaint.
A Leave is the first feature for writer-director Ran-hee Lee. She knows how to tell a little story in a little movie, which is not faint praise at all. Sometimes a little story is the best way to unmask great truth.
Lee uses non-actors in the film Her leading man is a 49-year-old guy who was laid off in real life and then picked up a temp job as a low wage contractor with undocumented, very green co-workers.
I screened A Leave for the SFFILM, where it won a jury mention.
A scene from Ran-hee Lee’s film A LEAVE. Courtesy of SFFILM
A scene from Angeles Cruz’s NUDO MEXTECO. Photo courtesy of SFFILM
In Nudo Mixteco, we visit an indigenous Mixtec village in Southern Mexico and get three dramas for the price of one. It’s the annual festival, and three long-absent locals return home. One is there for her mom’s funeral. another to intervene in her daughter’s welfare and the third has just decided that’s time to come back home.
Nudo is Spanish for “knot”, and the three stories form a loose braid. As in Kieślowski’s Blue/Red/White, the characters in each plot thread can be spotted in the others.
In each story, the women face constraints of patriarchy and traditional culture. An out lesbian has built a life in the city, but her father in the village cannot accept her sexuality, and even blames it for her mother’s death. Another woman also works in the city, and has left her daughter to be cared for by her sister in the village; reports of the daughter’s behavior trigger concern stemming from the mom’s own childhood sexual abuse.
In the third story, a village man has been working in the US. He had promised his wife that he would be gone six months, but it’s been three years. He expects that he can resume their lives as before, but his wife has moved on. Each feels betrayed by the other, and the village is convened to reach a community decision on a just outcome.
Nudo Mixteco is the debut feature for writer-director Angeles Cruz, who has won Ariels (Mexico’s Oscars) for her short films. Cruz is an accomplished actress, who was nominated for a best actress Ariel in 2018.
I screened Nudo Mixteco at SFFILM, where it won a jury award.
A scene from Angeles Cruz’s NUDO MEXTECO. Photo courtesy of SFFILM
Kelley Kali in a scene from Kelley Kali’s and Angelique Molina’s film I’M FINE (THANKS FOR ASKING), playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
In the winning indie I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking), Danny (Kelley Kali) is a recently widowed mom who has lost her housing and is on a one-woman crusade to get herself and her daughter back into an apartment.
Scraping together her earnings from here and there, she’s only $200 away from enough deposit for a new apartment. That 200 bucks is the MacGufffin of I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking), and Danny frantically roller skates around Pacoima, braiding hair and making app-based food deliveries.
With a one-day deadline, Danny races the clock through a series of comic and tragic misadventures, suffering more than her share of indignities. She’s desperate, but she still bypasses the off-ramps that would sacrifice her independence and personal integrity.
It’s also important to Danny that no one knows that she’s a mom who is homeless. Danny (Kali), Danny has even been telling her precocious 8-year-old daughter Wes (Wesley Moss) that they’re “camping”, but Wes is about to catch on.
Danny does let her situation slip to a couple of friends; (ironically, one’s housing depends on a new boyfriend and the other has inherited his). She gets more judginess than unconditional support.
We hear of “one paycheck away from being homeless”, but what about those hard-working folks in the informal economy who don’t get any paycheck at all? I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) makes powerful statements about housing security and the gig economy in a oft funny, always accessible movie.
I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) is an authentic and clear-eyed portrait of a woman navigating out of a fix. Danny is not an artificially noble character – not all of her choices are ideal. But she is driven by devotion to her daughter.
In a tour de force performance, Kelly Kali is a tornado of hustle. They say that acting is reacting, and Kali’s face tells us when she is thinking “I’m not going to go THERE” or “WTF am I going to tell my kid?”. Her Danny puts on the best possible face in a way to convince her acquaintances (without being convincing to the clued-in movie audience).
Deon Cole (Blackish) delivers a brief, magnetic turn as one tempting and very bad potential choice for Danny.
This is the first feature for co-directors Kelley Kali and Angelique Molina, who co-wrote I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) with Roma Kong (also first feature). (Kali was also one of nine co-directors credited on The Adventures of Thomasina Sawyer). This film is especially well-paced, as Kali and Molina economically set up the situation that Danny and Wes are in and then keep up with Danny as she spurts from vignette to vignette on her quest.
Let’s not overlook that this is another example of female filmmakers, on the hunt for quality source material, writing it themselves. And they shot it on a low budget during a pandemic. With the matter of fact masking of the characters, I’m Fine is ever COVID-conscious.
I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) won two jury awards at SXSW and can be streamed through April 18 at SFFILM.
A scene from Marilyn Agrelo’s film STREET GANG: HOW WE GOT TO SESAME STREET, playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
This year’s San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM) opens tomorrow, April 9, and runs through April 18. As always, it’s a Can’t Miss for Bay Area movie fans. This year, you can attend at home: with the exception of a few drive-in events at Fort Mason, the movies can be streamed.
The menu at SFFILM includes 42 feature films and 56 shorts from 41 countries, with 13 world premieres and 20 North American or US premieres. Of the 103 total films, 57% have female directors and 57% are directed by BIPOC.
Besides the streaming, here’s what’s new in this year’s SFFILM:
After years of programs impeccably curated by Bay Area treasure Rachel Rosen, Jessie Fairbanks takes over as Director of Programming. (And this is the first SFFILM fest for new SFFILM Executive DIrector Anne Lai.)
A cross section of movies highlighted as Family-friendly films, something that more film festivals should do. Introduce the kids to good cinema!
Mid-Lengths – a competition of five movies with hard-to-program running times of 30-50 minutes.
The festival’s Closing Night Film is Marilyn Agrelo’s documentary Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street, the origin story of the beloved children’s show.
I’ve screened some of the films, and I’ll be recommending some indie gems soon.
Kelley Kali in a scene from Kelley Kali’s and Angelique Molina’s film I’M FINE (THANKS FOR ASKING), playing at the 2021 San Francisco International Film Festival, April 9 -18, 2021. Courtesy of SFFILM
This week, we’re between Bay Area (virtual) film festivals – Cinequest, which just wrapped up on Tuesday, and the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM), which opens next weekend. My CINEQUEST page has links to features, a filmmaker interview and comments on 19 Cinequest films. My SFFILM preview is coming very soon.
REMEMBRANCE
Robert Duvall and Tommy Lee Jones in Larry McMurtry’s LONESOME DOVE
Writer Larry McMurtry told powerful, unflinching, character-centered stories of the Old West (Lonesome Dove) and the contemporary West (The Last Picture Show). He won an Oscar for his Brokeback Mountain screenplay, and his novels were the basis for Hud and Terms of Endearment.
ON VIDEO
The most eclectic watch-at-home recommendations you’ll find ANYWHERE:
Nomadland: refusing to be defeated. THE YEAR’S BEST MOVIE. Hulu.
The Father: as reality shifts. Amazon, Vudu, YouTube, Google Play.
On April 5, Turner Classic Movies presents Jack Nicholson as the iconic 1970s anti-hero in Five Easy Pieces. It’s a profound and deeply affecting study of alienation. Nicholson plays someone who has rejected and isolated himself from his dysfunctional family. Then he must embark on the epic road trip back to the family home. Amid the drama, there is plenty of funny, including the funniest sandwich order in the history of cinema.
Don’t miss this beautifully-written essay on Five Easy Pieces by Steven Gaydos in Variety. Gaydos gets the impact on the 1970 audience just right and shines overdue credit on its female screenwriter Carole Eastman. There’s also a tidbit on Helena Kallianiotes, the funniest hitch hiker in movie history.
Karen Black, Helena Kallianiotes, Toni Basil and Jack Nicholson in FIVE EASY PIECES
The absurdism of Luis Buñuel meets the social awkwardness of Seinfeld in Hong Sang-soo’s Koran comedy Yourself and Yours.
In Yourself and Yours, Minjung (Lee You-young) dumps her boyfriend (Kim Joo-hyuck) after he objects to her heavy drinking (“I’ve stopped drinking – now I stop after only five rounds“). Then another man thinks that he meets Minjung, but she claims that she is Minjung’s identical twin. We’re not so sure about that. And then she meets ANOTHER man, and her identity remains in question. Her original boyfriend is comically bereft, and he’s on the lookout for her, too.
One character says “You men are all pathetic“, and Minjung proves that point at every opportunity. In a deliberate homage to Buñuel’s That Obscure Object of Desire, Lee You-young plays the role of Minjung and her multiple doppelgängers (unless they are all really Minjung herself). There are plenty of LOL moments as Yourself and Yours winds its way full circle to a satisfyingly sly finale.
I saw Yourself and Yours (Dangsinjasingwa dangsinui geot) at the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM). In an Only-At-SFFILM moment, I (a Hong Sang-soo newbie) was surrounded in the audience by devoted Hong Sang-soo fans. During its Bay Area virtual run at the Roxie, you can stream Yourself and Yours at Roxie Virtual Cinema.
Charlie Hunnam in THE LOST CITY OF Z
photo courtesy of SFFILM
Because the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM) was supposed to be underway now (it’s been cancelled for the COVID-19 emergency), here’s a film from SFFILM’s 2017 program. In auteur James Gray’s sweeping turn of the 20th Century epic The Lost City of Z, a stiff-upper-lip type British military officer becomes the first European to probe into the deepest heart of unmapped Amazonia. Finding his way through the lush jungles, braving encounters with sometimes cannibalistic indigenous warriors, he becomes obsessed with finding the lost city of an ancient civilization. I know this sounds like Indiana Jones, but it’s based on the real life of Percy Fawcett as chronicled in the recent book Lost City of Z by David Grann.
The Lost City of Z begins with an Edwardian stag hunt
through the verdant Irish countryside, complete with horses spilling
riders. This scene is gorgeous, but its point is to introduce the young
British military officer Percy Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam) as a man of
unusual resourcefulness, talent and, above all, drive. Despite his
abilities, he has been chaffing at the unattractive assignments that
have precluded his career advancement. In the snobby Edwardian military,
he has been in disfavor because his dissolute father had stained the
family name. One of Fawcett’s commanders says, “He’s been rather
unfortunate in his choice of ancestors”.
That yearning to earn the recognition that he believes he merits –
and to attain the accomplishments of a Great Man – is the core of this
character-driven movie. Fawcett resists yet another assignment away from
the career-making action, a mapping expedition designed to have a minor
diplomatic payoff. But it takes him on a spectacular Amazon exploration
that brings him celebrity – and backing for more high-profile
expeditions. Fawcett was surfing the zeitgeist in the age of his
contemporaries Roald Amundsen (South Pole), Robert Peary (North Pole)
and Howard Carter (King Tut).
In that first expedition, Fawcett becomes convinced that he can find the magnificent city of a lost civilization deep in the Amazon, a city he calls Z (which is pronounced as the British “Zed”). The Lost City of Z takes us through two more Amazonian expeditions, sandwiched around Fawcett’s WW I service in the hellish Battle of the Somme. That final expedition ends mysteriously – and not well.
No one knows for sure what happened to Fawcett. In The Lost City of Z,
Gray leads us toward the most likely conclusion, the one embraced by
Grann’s book. If you’re interested in the decades of speculation about
Fawcett’s fate, there’s a good outline on Percy Fawcett’s Wikipedia page.
Fawcett comes with his own Victorian upper class prejudices, but he
has the capacity to set those aside for a post-Darwin open-mindedness.
Gray made it a point that the indigenous peoples in the movie are
independent of Fawcett; Gray shows them living their lives in a world
that Fawcett has found, not just advancing the plot points in Fawcett’s
quest. Four real tribes – and their cultures – are shown in the film.
As Percy Fawcett, with his oft-manic obsession and fame-seeking that
color his scientific curiosity and his old-fashioned Dudley Do-Right
values, Charlie Hunnam gives a tremendous, perhaps carer breakthrough,
performance. He’s been a promising actor in Sons of Anarchy and the overlooked thriller Deadfall) (and such a good actor that I never dreamed that he’s really British). Hunnam will next star as the title character in the King Arthur movie franchise.
Robert Pattinson is unexpectedly perfect as Fawcett’s travel buddy Henry Costin. With his Twilight dreaminess hidden behind a Smith Brothers beard, Pattinson projects a lean manliness. It’s probably his best performance.
Sienna Miller shines as Fawcett’s proto-feminist wife Nina. I first
noticed Miller (and Daniel Craig) in the underrated neo-noir thriller
2004 Layer Cake. Now Miller is still only 35 years old and has delivered other fine recent performances in Foxcatcher, American Sniper and (in an especially delicious role) High-Rise.
Director James Gray (The Yard, Two Lovers, The Immigrant) is
a favorite of cinephiles and of other filmmakers, but regular audiences
don’t turn out for his movies. That may change with The Lost City of Z,
a remarkably beautiful film that Gray shot, bucking the trend to
digital, in 35 mm. The jungle scenes were filmed in a national park in
Columbia. The cinemeatographer is the Oscar-nominated Darius Khondji.
Khondji shot The Immigrant for Gray and has been the DP of choice for David Fincher (Se7en) Alan Parker (Evita), Michael Haneke (Amour), and Woody Allen (Midnight in Paris).
Along with the stag hunt and the voyages up and down the jungle rivers,
there is also a breathtakingly beautiful ballroom scene and a gaspingly
surreal nighttime discovery of a rubber plantation’s opera house deep
in the jungle.
There have been other Lost Expedition movies, most famously Werner Herzog’s Aquirre, the Wrath of God and Fitzcarraldo. The Lost City of Z
shares an obsession, a quest and a mysterious tragic end with those
films, but it stands apart with its exploration of the motivation of a
real life character and the authenticity of Gray’s depiction of the
indigenous people.
Movie studios used to make an entire genre of very fun movies from Gunga Din and The Four Feathers through Lawrence of Arabia and Zulu
that featured white Europeans getting their thrills in exotic third
world playgrounds. We often cringe at the racist premises and the
treatment of “the natives” those movies today. Since the 1960s, the best
examples of the genre, like Raiders of the Lost Ark, have had an ironic tinge. With The Lost City of Z, James Gray loses both the racism and the irony, and brings us brings a straight-ahead exploration tale.
The Lost City of Z revives the genre of the historical
adventure epic, with all the spectacle of a swashbuckler, while braiding
in modern sensitivities and a psychological portrait. This is a
beautiful and thoughtful film. The Lost City of Z is available on DVD from Netflix and Redbox and to stream from Amazon, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.
Also see my notes from the director James Gray’s Q & A at the San Francisco International Film Festival. [And here are some completely random tidbits. There’s a cameo by Spaghetti Western star Franco Nero. And the closing credits recognize the “data wrangler”.]
In the thought-provoking documentary We Believe in Dinosaurs, filmmakers Clayton Brown and Monica Long Ross introduce us to Ark Encounter, a Kentucky attraction with a full-size replica of Noah’s Ark. Explicitly pro-creationism and anti-evolution, Ark Encounter is filled with interpretive exhibits that illustrate the Biblical story of Noah as historical fact, kind of a fundamentalist, evangelical Smithsonian. Ark Encounter is 45 miles from its sister attraction, the Creation Museum.
There’s a lot to think about – and even marvel about – here. First of all, the Ark Encounter is an impressive spectacle. In Genesis, God directed Noah to build the ark to be 300 cubits long, 50 cubits wide, and 30 cubits high. That means that this thing is a football field-and-a-half long and over four stories high. We get to meet and observe the technicians and artists as they build the animatronic Noah family and the reproduced animals.
The bigger story here, though, is the massive investment in anti-science propaganda. To justify their literal acceptance of Biblical content that is inconsistent with scientific fact, these folks behind the Ark Encounter believe that they need to discredit science itself. And they’re not just defending the literal occurrence of every Bible story, but also the chronology of Bishop Ussher who, in the mid 1600s, calculated that the earth was created in 4004 B.C. That means that the Ark Encounter aggressively explains that the Earth and the human race, despite fossil evidence, are each 6,000 years old – and that dinosaurs lived alongside humans (and voyaged on the Ark). It also means that they seek to discredit the Theory of Evolution and the scientific method itself (while enjoying its byproducts – vaccines, for example).
When you distill their beliefs, these neo-creationists are essentially turbanless Taliban. Just for perspective, after suppressing Galileo’s 1615 discovery of the earth-centered solar system, the Catholic Church started backpedaling in 1718. That means that 300 years ago, even the reactionary Church decided not to double down on denying scientific discoveries.
And what about the scientists? And people of faith who accept science? We Believe in Dinosaurs
brings us the perspectives of Ark Encounter opponents, most notably a
geologist, and a former neo-creationist, both native Kentuckians.
There’s also a local Baptist minister, who thinks that people of faith
can also accept science.
One of the stunning aspects of We Believe in Dinosaurs is the unexpected David-and-Goliath story. We might expect the science-deniers to be outmatched. But the folks with most primitive beliefs are the creative masters. Anti creationists are the Goliath, supported by hordes of believers, massive private investment, capacity for technical wizardry and even state support. On the other hand, scientists are not often skilled in or equipped with tools for political persuasion and mass communications. The pro-science folks are, like John the Baptist, a lone voice in the wilderness, losing the optics battle.
Brown and Long Ross have a point of view (that science is good), but they don’t make the Ark Encounter people ridiculous. We directly hear the Ark Encounter leadership’s public pronouncements, and we meet the earnest and often sympathetic folks who are using their considerable talents to build and fill the attraction. Brown and Long Ross let us hear from both sides and let us connect our own dots. Watch the closing credits to the very end to get the subjects’ unfiltered view of the filmmakers. And wait for the film’s super-creepy money shot – that of an animatronic figure reflecting on the fate of others.
I saw We Believe in Dinosaurs at its world premiere at the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM). We Believe in Dinosaurs can be streamed from Amazon, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.
Luke Lorentzen’s MIDNIGHT FAMILY. Cuurtesy of SFFILM
In his gripping documentary Midnight Family, filmmaker Luke Lorentzen takes us on ridealongs with an all-night ambulance crew in Mexico City. It’s even wilder than you may expect.
Midnight Family is set in an absurd situation with life-and-death stakes. We learn right away that there are only 45 government-operated ambulances in Mexico City, a metropolis of 9 million. The rest of the ambulances are private and mostly independents.
Competition is cut throat. The private ambulances listen to police scanners and then TRY TO OUTRACE each other to the scene. One of these independent ambulances is the Ochoa family’s business.
Fernando Ochoa is the head of the family, and he collects the ambulance fee from hospitals and patients. His 17-year-old son Juan is the voluble front man and driver, who careens them through the Mexico City streets at alarming speed. The Ochoa’s colleague, the even-tempered medic Manuel, rides in the back. The youngest Ochoa son, pudgy, Ruffles-devouring 10-year-old Josue, rides along as a gopher. BTW there are no seat belts in the back.
The private ambulances operate in a shady world of semi-formal licensing, so they can always be shut down arbitrarily by the cops. Indeed, we even see the Ochoas arrested while trying to take a patient to the hospital. It’s common for the police to extract bribes from the vulnerable ambulance crews.
There is an incentive to steer patients to the private hospitals that will pay the ambulance crews, so their business is, by its nature, often a hustle; there are some instances of ethical ambiguity. Aiming to depict a “wide spectrum”, Lorentzen balances life-saving heroics with the more sketchy moments. Getting payment out of a grieving family when the loved one dies on the way to the hospital is, well, awkward.
Here is the Ochoa’s business model. Ideally, they get paid about $250 to deliver a patient to a private hospital. They deduct the cost of gasoline, medical supplies and police bribes, and then split what’s left four ways. If a patient can’t or won’t pay, if the vehicle breaks down, or if the cops shut them down – the Ochoas are out of luck.
Luke Lorentzen’s MIDNIGHT FAMILY. Cuurtesy of SFFILM
Fernando is silent but expressive. Carrying an alarming belly, he stoically juggles an assortment pills to treat his chronic illness. The loquacious Juan is a born front man, and basically provides play-by-play commentary throughout the film in real time. We see him downloading the previous night’s drama over the phone to his girlfrend Jessica and, by loud speaker, directing other Mexico City drivers out of his way.
Fernando and Juan sleep on the floor of a downscale apartment, and they never know if they’ll make enough money for tomorrow’s gasoline. It’s an incredibly stressful existence. How resilient can they be? Is there any limit to the stress they can absorb? As Lorentzen himself says, this is “a world where no one is getting what they need”.
I saw Midnight Family at the 2019 San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM), which included an in-person Q&A with Lorenzen. Lorentzen spent 80-90 nights with the crew. About 70% of the film comes from the last three nights that he rode with the Ochoas.
Midnight Family joins a mini-genre of rogue ambulance cinema. The very dark Argentine narrative Carancho stars the great Ricardo Darin as a LITERALLY ambulance-chasing lawyer. In the Hungarian dark comedy Heavenly Shift (I saw it at the 2014 Cinequest), an outlaw ambulance crew gets kickbacks from a shady funeral director if the patient dies en route to the hospital.
Midnight Family is just concluding a run at the Roxie in San Francisco. I’ll let you know when it’s streamable. Midnight Family is one of the nest documentaries of the year, and on my Best Movies of 2019.
Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie and Ben Foster in a scene from Debra Granik’s LEAVE NO TRACE. Courtesy of SFFILM.
Here is the best movie of 2018 – the unforgettable coming of age film Leave No Trace. Ben Foster and Thomasin McKenzie star as a dad-daughter team who challenge conventional thinking about homelessness and healthy parenting. Leave No Trace is writer-director Debra Granik’s first narrative feature since her Winter’s Bone (which I had rated as the best film of 2010).
When we meet Will (Foster) and his daughter Tom (McKenzie), they are
engaging in extremely low impact camping in a fern-rich Oregon forest,
to the point of solar cooking foraged mushrooms on a mylar sheet. Dad
and daughter are both survivalist experts and work together as a highly
trained team. They have the fond, respectful, communicative
relationship that most families with teen children aspire to but can
only fantasize about.
But Will and Tom are not on vacation. They do not consider themselves
homeless, because the forest is their home. However, their lifestyle
just isn’t consistent with contemporary thinking about child welfare.
Furthermore, living in a public park is illegal,and when they are
discovered, social service authorities are understandably and
justifiably concerned. Investigators find Tom to be medically and
emotionally healthy, Will to be free of drug or alcohol abuse, and there
has been no child abuse or neglect – other than having ones child
living outdoors and not going to school.
Will is a veteran who has been scarred by his military service, and
he is clearly anti-social. But Will is not your stereotypical
PTSD-addled movie vet. He is a clear thinker. His behavior, which can
range to the bizarre, is not impulsive but deliberate.
Fortunately, the Oregon, social services authorities are remarkably
open-minded, and they place Will and Tom in a remote rural setting in
their own house at a rural Christmas Tree farm. Will can work on the
farm, Tom can go the school, and there’s a liberal non-denominational
church filled with kind folks. It’s a massive accommodation to Will and
Tom’s lifestyle, only with the additions of living under a roof and
public education.
Tom blossoms with social contact, and particularly enjoys the local
4-H and one kid’s pet rabbit named Chainsaw. Tom begins to understand
how much she needs human connection – and not just with her dad,
But Will can’t help but feel defeated. When Tom suggests that they
try to adapt to their new setting, he scowls, “We’re wearing their
clothes, we’re living in their house, we’re eating their food, we’re
doing their work. We’ve adapted”. She argues, “Did you try?”, “Why are
we doing this?”, and “Dad, this isn’t how it used to be”.
Ben is so damaged that his parenting can nurture Tom for only so long. Leave No Trace
is about how he has raised her to this point. Has he imparted his
demons to her? Has he helped her become strong and grounded enough to
grow without him?
Thomasin Harcourt McKenzie and Ben Foster in a scene from Debra Granik’s LEAVE NO TRACE. Courtesy of SFFILM.
Winter’s Bone launched the career of Jennifer Lawrence, and Leave No Trace
might do the same for newcomer Thomasin McKenzie. McKenzie is riveting
as she authentically takes Tom from a parented child to an independent
young woman. At the San Francisco International Film Festival
screening, producer and co-writer Anne Rosellini said “there’s an
‘otherness’ to McKenzie,” who had “tremendous insight into the
character”. Rosellini added that McKenzie and Ben Foster bonded before
the shoot, as they rehearsed with a survivalist coach.
Foster is no stranger to troubled characters (The Messenger, Rampart, Hell or High Water).
Here, he delivers a remarkably intense and contained performance as a
man who will not allow himself an outburst no matter what turbulence
roils inside him. Rosellini noted that “Will is elusive, a mysterious
character to everybody”. It’s a performance that will be in the
conversation about Oscar nominations. Actors Jeff Kober, Dale Dickey,
Dana Millican and Isaiah Stone (the little brother in Winter’s Bone) are also excellent in smaller roles.
Leave No Trace is thoughtful and emotionally powerful. Superbly well-crafted and impeccably acted, it’s a Must See. Leave No Trace is available for streaming from Amazon, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.
