Asleep in My Palm

The movie “Asleep in My Palm” by Henry Nelson sheds light on people often overlooked by society. It follows the lives of a father and daughter living off the grid, revealing the challenges they face and their close bond. Despite its short runtime of 89 minutes, the film is rich in details and portrays the struggles of surviving in a tough world. Nelson’s debut feature is a heartfelt exploration of family ties and resilience.

In “Asleep in My Palm,” Tom, played by Tim Blake Nelson, is a father who has chosen to live outside society’s norms. His daughter, Beth Anne, portrayed by Chloë Kerwin, balances curiosity with the maturity forced upon her. They live secretly in a storage unit near a college, furnishing it with items they’ve acquired. They rely on nearby businesses for basic needs like bathrooms and showers, using Tom’s resourcefulness to get by without modern comforts.

“Asleep in My Palm” humorously portrays Tom and Beth Anne’s unconventional lifestyle with a caring perspective. Tom shares stories with Beth Anne, mixing parental guidance with adult language. They spend their time freely on the college campus, and in one scene, Tom steals bikes to sell later. Jose, played by Jared Abrahamson, is a lively character who contrasts with Tom’s seriousness.

It is evident from books like Debra Granik’s (albeit undoubtedly far better) “Leave No Trace” that an isolated life is unsustainable, particularly as a young girl’s needs, desires, and interests keep growing. For Beth Anne, however, these meadows are accessed through an aristocratic, aristocratic, and quasi-Satanic student collective, who serve as her introduction to the group’s charismatic leader, Dark Mortius (Grant Harvey), and its mysterious head, the seductive Millah, played by Gus Birney. In the end, Millah is the one who gives a stolen kiss to Beth Anne, arousing her desire for sex. And with that renewed drive and self-assurance, Beth Anne begins to question what opportunities lie outside of their secret life—opportunities that will always remain unattainable.

“Asleep in My Palm” claims a poetic tone that is neither oversentimental nor aloof, thanks to Tatajana Krstevski’s empathic cinematography, which unearths the coolness of the terrain and connects with the textures of the neglected, decaying structures Tom and Beth Anne frequent. In the film’s more mundane scenes, you are frequently immersed in the simple world that Nelson has created.

Less compelling is the story’s third act flip, in which we discover a lot more about Tom’s problematic roots in a twist that is both horrifying and, sadly, underdeveloped. Nonetheless, Nelson achieves something oddly wonderful and compassionate on the whole, a clear-eyed picture with much to say about the types of lives many people would rather not discuss.