In A Time of Abundance, “Leave No Trace” Opts For A Simpler Existence

Debra Granik’s moving and humanistic film urges you to empathize with lives that are simpler than yours, but not because they’re worse.

Throughout its almost two-hour run-time, the one reoccurring thought I had while watching Leave No Trace was “I have too many things.” I thought this watching Will and Tom play chess in their beloved camp, I thought this watching them move into their new, walled, home, only to end up sleeping outside, and I thought this watching Tom play with Chainsaw, a cute rabbit with soft ears. Maybe it’s the lack of superfluous desires. Maybe it’s the serene forests. Maybe it’s the lush vegetation and calming amount of green. “You really don’t need so many things”, the movie said to me.

“Lush” is a particularly interesting word in the context of this movie, because of the word’s dual meanings. While the word can be used to describe a life of luxury, and plenty — think parties, champagne, private planes — , it’s also often used to describe nature and its beauty. So while Leave No Trace tells the story of a daughter living with his father in the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest, it’s simultaneously saying something about the unnecessity of living a lavish, luxurious, and lush life.