Directed By Maggie Gyllenhaal

Starring – Olivia Colman, Dakota Johnson, Jessie Buckley

The Plot – Leda (Colman) is a middle-aged divorcée devoted to her work as an English teacher and to her two children. When her daughters leave home to be with their father in Canada, Leda anticipates a period of loneliness and longing. Instead, slightly embarrassed by the sensation, she feels liberated, as if her life has become lighter, easier. She decides to take a holiday by the sea, in a small coastal town in southern Italy. But after a few days of calm and quiet, things take a menacing turn. Leda encounters a family whose brash presence proves unsettling, at times even threatening. When a small, seemingly meaningless event occurs, Leda is overwhelmed by memories of the difficult, unconventional choices she made as a mother and their consequences for herself and her family. The seemingly serene tale of a woman’s pleasant rediscovery of herself soon becomes the story of a ferocious confrontation with an unsettled past.

Rated R for sexual content involving nudity, and adult language

The Lost Daughter | Official Trailer | Netflix – YouTube

POSITIVES

Very few films have the durability or capability to reinvent themselves every half hour, but “The Lost Daughter” thrives in the ambiguity of its chameleonized essence, while conjuring up one of the more introspective character deconstructions of the 21st century. This is pulled off seamlessly by Gyllenhaal, who in her directorial debut juggles a dual linear narrative between the respective ages in Leda’s life, which have ultimately come to define her. There are moments where the film serves as a scenic reflection piece, with the breathtaking backdrops of the Italian countryside whetting our pallet, other scenes enduring a psychological drama, where we question the legitimacy of an unreliable narrator, and even moments of unsettling tension, where it feels like these characters and their respective subplots could pop off at any time. Gyllenhaal is mostly a success in her first commanding, emitting some of the more resilient performances from Colman and Johnson, in particular, as well as a technical merit in presentation that bares the influence of the recently deceased Jean-Marc Vallet’s unmistakable identity for unique editing. In attaining such, Maggie spontaneously cuts to a scene from Leda’s past, even during times when the scene in the foreground of the narrative is still running, creating an immersive aspect in thoughts, ideas, and motivations that we coherently interpret as a result of the experiences that we’re actually living through by the characters’ sides. Beyond this, Gyllenhaal feels virtually handpicked for the project, zeroing in on much of the feelings and obstacles of motherhood in a way that feels unique for this particular depiction, full of feelings and consequences that wear the weight of motherhood with the kind of unapologetic honesty that other films about the subject could only dream of. As for Colman and Johnson, both are virtual forces to be reckoned with, but for entirely different reasons. For Johnson, the watery-eyed resonance balancing the jaded body movements of her character, gives way to a refreshing edginess for Dakota that we sadly haven’t been privy to until now, and Colman’s emotional frailty that feels like it could pop at any moment, is on full display for various character dynamics throughout the ensemble, made all the more endearing with Olivia’s timely deliveries breeding a layer of authenticity for the lived-in quality of the characterization. Finally, the sound mixing and editing for the film are surprisingly exceptional, especially with the audible entrancement of the geographic influence weighing so candidly and coherently in the balance of the gorgeous cinematography from Helene Louvart. Whether in the splashing of the waves, the volume levels of surrounding characters, or even just the paralyzing silence weighing heavily to a scene’s general uneasiness, everything prescribes such a richly authentic emphasis to its manifestation, creating a symphonic concerto of combustible elements that we’re periodically reminded of, as a result of the continuous stirring that makes them virtually inescapable in the context of the tonal dexterity.

NEGATIVES

Unfortunately, not everything transfers seamlessly from the pages of the novel of the same name, as not only is “The Lost Daughter” a tireless exercise of futility during the film’s climax, but it also can’t nail the execution of the dual narrative, which often feels uneven and periodically tedious by the halfway point of the film. That’s not to say that the experience itself is boring, just improper in the way it only values the past of Leda’s dual dynamic, undercutting any evidence of evolution in the current day narrative, while virtually halting in place where we stand with the movie’s central plot. In addition to this, I found much of the additional subplots in the current day narrative to be unnecessary to the influence of the evolutionary narrative, primarily in the dual arc’s, one involving Ed Harris, and the other involving a youthful restaurant worker nearby. One could certainly debate that they serve as padding to the two-hour run time, or even levity to the impactful moments crafting superb tension, but neither ever prescribed something palpable for my own interpretation, and often took too much time away from the moments and people that I wish I were following. One such victim is Johnson’s Nina, who after disappearing for 45 minutes, requires the dialogue to work overtime in stitching together the idea that her and Leda are metaphorically the same person, instead of naturally unraveling the similarities between them that could offer something compelling for the complexion of the narrative.

OVERALL

Though not a film that wholeheartedly transfers the full potential of author Elena Ferrante’s literary material, “The Lost Daughter” is an honest, intimate, and thought-provoking portrait on the rarely utilized obstacles of motherhood. Held together with exceptional technical elements, as well as another spellbinding performance from Colman, Gyllenhaal artistically sets the movements in motion on the second act of her storied career, channeling the past as a ghost in the night that never relents, and only grows stronger with reflection.

My Grade: 7/10 or B