Why They Climb Mountains In Movies – Part I: Leave No Trace

Salutations, Maties,

Firstly and foremostly, there’s something I’d like you to play on YouTube while you’re reading and hopefully beyond and it’s called:

Relaxing Sound of Rain Forest Puddles 2 Hours / Light Rain and Rain Drops Falling From Trees

I adore mixed media supporting each-other for best results and this one is by a channel I support and hope they’ll support me back one day before I turn grey.

Oh, do I got for you today just the thing you were looking for!

– How well-slept do you feel you are to enjoy a film’s pacing?

– Nothing more refreshing in the whole world than seeing a spider net woven into sunlit fern?

– Eager to climb a mountain or two but they have yet to invent teleportation?

Well, grip on that bag of pop-corn, hearty, for life is about to get forest-green and water mountain-fresh!

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is LeaveNoTrace4-1024x546.png
A still frame from the film “Leave No Trace” by Debra Granik


“Leave No Trace” tells the story about a father-and-daughter duo who live a lone life in the outdoors and on the grid, as every single article about the film very repeatedly puts it. They live in a large rainforest park in the Pacific Northwest, and the father is home-schooling the girl all he believes useful, ensuring a healthy growth – sheltering from the toxicity of our city. They have a beautiful bond.

I, personally, couldn’t think of a happier child.

Now, let’s just address the chubby elephant in the room here – yes, I love to have myself a mountain or two for breakfast every day and the biggest plot development I’ve had is dripping chocolate on my unicorn PJ’s, so you know I’m legit to preach.

And to pave your mindset steady for when you see the movie I’d like to offer you these two following points of perspective, behold:

1. Cause of Liberty

Although I doubt director Debra Granik ever had this on mind since she’s never mentioned it, one shouting film motif here is libertarianism and rejection of authority.

Character Will here and his daughter have chosen to live on their own terms, rejecting luxury utilities that slacking society has made a career out of taking for granted, such as a house or the Internet.
They have chosen solitude and tranquility.
Yes, beautiful nature is often known to be cruel and merciless and life without comfort is a hard one.
However, from where I was standing they didn’t choose it because it was easy, they chose it because it was happy and freer than the raindrop falling from the sky.

In continuance, to give haters the benefit of the doubt, Will did do it for the supposedly wrong reasons, given he is a PTSD suffering war veteran who cannot stand to live in a community. But, his decision is nevertheless a solid and reasonable one and he has never let his pain ever impact his child in a wrong way.
Instead, he raised her strong and happy.

And who here wouldn’t agree that public school and the toxic wasteland of a system that we live in is no place to raise a child.
No, seriously, who? I’d love to have some comments, hint-hint, nudge-nudge.

Irregardlessly enough to the director never saying it, I do opt to not ignore the authoritarian elephant in the room who sugarcoatedly cages said characters into RickAndMortian unity unallowing of personal liberty and self-reliance.

And once they catch you living on public land and raising your child homeless, well one thing you can say about the state – it’s got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.

And it is called force.

Director Debra Granik quotes Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” as her inspiration on a tonload of occasions. Her starting point is the father-daughter outcast bond and differences in social interaction preferences.

But instead, I’m quoting a differently themed piece of dialog from “The Tempest”:

“ PROSPERO

How now? moody?
What is’t thou canst demand?


ARIEL

My liberty.” – quotation from William Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is LeaveNoTrace7-1024x546.png
Another still frame from the film “Leave No Trace” by Debra Granik


2. Refined Minimalism

Another reason why see this beauty of a filmpiece is filmmaking style that one can easily put up there next to Terrence Malick when it comes to undisturbed scenery.

The very poster itself primarily portrays tall green rainforest on fur-like fern and among the titan wood corpses and sky-scraping branches – celestial sun-rays try and pull through.
In the bottom right corner there’s two miniature human figures hiking their way up.

That’s all you need to know about cinematography.

This is the film’s pacing and its way of perceiving humans within the world.

But, that’s hardly why I call this minimalism.

It’s rather its economic dialog and thoroughly thought-through, less-is-more approach to script writing. This is where she parts ways with the Malick style.

So, actor Ben Foster and the writers sat down, looked in the mirror and followed Coco Chanel’s advice to remove 40% of the first draft of dialog before leaving the house.
It’s always better to be underdressed.

With that little to say, they made the two individuals of brilliantly cast actors sweat their way up to pure acting, because no pain no gain.

Unlike “Grey’s Anatomy” you won’t catch them saying how they feel every second line any day soon.

Debra Granik also likes to discover fresh talent to induce filming enthusiasm and reduce diva attitude and so she did with Thomasin McKenzie.

Debra Granik hasn’t collaborated with the industry, maybe she will, but so far she likes to fly solo with a few close pals and associates.

So, this film goes from my heart to yours as would a perfect sandwich.

To conclude, what I assume is you’re thinking how I haven’t told one joke and squeezed-in song lyrics will only get me so far but I mean is this a personal attack or something.

Wishing you many mountains of freedom all the way from The Jolly Roger,

Yours,

Johnny Boogieman.

Johnny Boogieman

About Johnny Boogieman (né Johnathan Boogiemanovich Goode) is an American comedy reviewer and a self-proclaimed cinema connoisseur, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. … Johnny grew up on a farm in Louisiana, as the only child of a Louisiana-based field worker, dressmaker, dog hairstylist, dog collar jewelry designer, dog walker for the elderly (dogs and owners), disabled and elderly dog walking aids creator-in-attempt, and homemaker, Dutch single mother. As large a clientele as dogs were for the barely-gasping-for-air family business, they were the proud owners of a single tabby cat alone, a streetwise and self-dependent hunter known by either of the street names Stringer Bell and El Capo (sometimes referred to as El Cato). … Having been amazed by the crazy wild early readings of Jules Verne, Johnny’s school days were spent dreaming he’d someday make for a good storyteller. Hence, as early as fourth grade, eager to prove himself to the world, he went for it and constructed a well-balanced heartbeat-skipping thrilling essay, pointing out to some well-reasoned critique of society and solid character arcs, committing to his talents to the fullest and diving right into that pool of majestic phrasing and complexity of thought, confident he’d soon get bejeweled with a spotless A and a pretty clap by the teacher, with gradually having the whole class join in looking up to him as he emerges from his seat to receive his essay evaluation. When results day came, though, little Johnny not only got a D, but he was mocked by the teacher and class for the gullible overexposure of his fragile overambitious mutating childish writing skills of questionable taste and poor poor quality. It was the “you’re tearing me apart, Lisa” equivalent of a child’s essay. He was rather massacred. He never got that brave ever again. … Anyway, Johnny mainly spent his summers field-working on a sunflower field with his uncle Berry under the widespread wings of the storks and the chesty white doves and clever black crows who all flew right under the neighbor’s umbrella caps patio ceiling installation thingy as soon as the first raindrop was godshed over the one-eyed monsters battalion that the sunflower sea was to Johnny. It drove the unwilling bird host nuts, and he’d storm right out yelling and cursing at the birds, “we’re going, we’re going” they went, and flew a semi-circle over the umbrella caps as to fool him and came right back the other way around pretending to be some fresh arrivals of clueless law-abiding American birds not yet acquainted with the police system of the patio. The guy wouldn’t take it out as it took ages to plant and he and his wife thought it made them look like fancy DIY people who had some ideas worthy of admiration. Oh, the bird manure, though, oh the bird manure. “Work your time, boy” – staring Johnny’s uncle frowned, his eye twinkled. … Cinema was to Johnny what he made plans for, what he made time for, what he looked up to all his life, and as he became a young adult, what he fancied himself to have a special talent to understand. It was the sort of a sixth sense, an intuition, a gut sense. He was the squad movie buff and a film whisperer. “No”, it whispered, “Fight Club ain’t no bueno. Mark my words and don’t ask why ‘cos you ain’t schooled enough to know why, boy.” He tried, though, he debated and disputed over a glass of scotch-on-the-rocks and under the jibe of a saxophone jazz, but it was as fruitless and dull as the poetry he wrote - unclean, uneven, and too abstract - as if he hadn’t found a voice to speak in yet. He did his part for years to come, reading as all writers ought to, writing and not publishing until he found out what he had to say with the peculiar piece of work. As for cinema, it happened one evening as he discussed legs-up-a-recliner their plans for the future with his lover-cum-best friend in their rented one-bedroom living space in New Jersey, that his lover casually contributed: “And then I thought we could start a film blog and you could do the content writing” – words that sunflower field Johnny with his gangster cat and his dewy eyes staring at the rainy-day con birds thought he’d never hear.

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2 Responses

  1. Hello Movie Boogie,

    My name is Mary Jane and I am working to promote State (Remix), a dark suspense film about a family, a murder, and a political conspiracy. It was written, directed, edited, and produced by first-time filmmaker Alain Nouvel. We were recently featured by Hollywood.com.

    I am writing to you because we want to partner with different organizations to help promote the film and reach new audiences. We were especially excited by your engaging and in-depth film reviews.

    Here is a synopsis of the film:

    “An old man, alone and abandoned by his only living relative, haunted by his role in altering the course of American history, prepares to commit suicide. His grandson, a traumatized veteran on the edge, caught between memory and reality, is trying to reach his estranged girlfriend who doesn’t know that he’s back – or gone awol. In one last, desperate attempt he seeks her out, but at this point everything is a trigger.”

    We are looking to set something up and maybe have the film reviewed. We can provide a screener link and press packet if you would like. Our instagram is @stateremix. If you are interested in working with us, please let me know. 

    Best,
    Mary Jane 

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