The Lost Daughter, 2021.
Written and Directed by Maggie Gyllenhaal.
Starring Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley, Dakota Johnson, Ed Harris, Peter Sarsgaard, Paul Mescal, Dagmara Domińczyk, Alba Rohrwacher, Jack Farthing, Oliver Jackson-Cohen, Panos Koronis, Abe Cohen, and Nikos Poursanidis.
SYNOPSIS:
A woman’s beach vacation takes a dark turn when she begins to confront the troubles of her past.
Without explicitly saying the question so as not to spoil, Olivia Colman’s Leda has a genuinely shocking response that is seemingly unheard-of in film. Put it this way: The Lost Daughter won’t be receiving any playtime on Mother’s Day, but it will be watched repeatedly by those that enjoy reading into psychological complexities, exploring darker and broken characters, and for anyone that recognizes Olivia Colman as one of the greatest talents working today. Naturally, she’s outstanding here, able to find empathy and humanity despite making some difficult life choices that she regrets. It’s assuredly an accomplished directorial debut from Maggie Gyllenhaal, adapting the book of the same name by Elena Ferrante, focusing on visual poetry and internal emotion from its characters.
Vacationing in Italy for the summer, Leda is an accomplished professor, albeit one with a lot weighing down her consciousness. When introducing herself to others, she reveals that she has two grown children, although she appears to have a complicated relationship what them that will be understood over time with flashbacks. The very presence of children also seems to throw her off balance mentally in concerning ways. There’s not much rest and relaxation going on, and outside noise such as a booming lighthouse going off all night doesn’t help.
Leda also quickly develops an unhealthy fixation on another vacationing family, this one comprised of Dakota Johnson’s Nina, her daughter, and the rowdy bunch surrounding her that includes her husband and sister. Whatever the deal is, it’s bringing back painful and somewhat mirrored memories of her own motherhood, with Leda now played by the consistently exceptional Jessie Buckley. While her two children were sometimes aggressively needy (one of them resorts to hitting an all-around bad behavior to receive attention), there is also a sense that Leda perhaps married too young or had kids without certainty of whether or not it was a genuine desire. This is effectively realized with the destruction of a porcelain doll, with another doll weirdly and brilliantly coming into play for thematic resonance. In the present day, there’s a gradual connection between mothers that leads to painfully honest, perhaps unlikable confessions, but ones that resonate deeply for their complexity, humanity, and authenticity.
As the flashbacks begin to pile up (and seem like they are invading present-day Leda’s headspace as living nightmares), details start to emerge about younger Leda’s unfulfilling marriage, unhappiness serving as a mother, and her desire to become involved in academics seriously. Jessie Buckley is also such a gifted performer that you are with the character every step of the way, even when setting aside her children completely to not only focus on her career, but search for satisfaction in life. In the present, Leda on-and-off flirts with Ed Harris’ residence caretaker and a college student played by Paul Mescal. She’s also prone to stubborn behavior, and in some cases, justified unbridled rage toward belligerent tourists sucking away the fun from others. In one spellbinding musical performance, Olivia Colman is tasked with singing some Bon Jovi, but not before that segment also ends in anxiety.
Nevertheless, Leda falls into good faith with Nina upon locating her temporarily missing daughter that briefly gets lost on the surrounding beach area. What remains lost as the child’s doll is because Leda has stolen it to keep with her. As the dynamics evolve between these characters (and between past and present), The Lost Daughter is a curious beast that’s easy to follow at surface level but far more rewarding when digging deeper (there’s a recurring segment involving peeling fruit like a snake, of all things, that is simultaneously beautiful and moving). The physical similarities and remarkable wavelength, but Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley are worth watching for alone. It poses challenging thoughts about motherhood and presents these controversial choices without judgment.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
