Film Review: THE LOST DAUGHTER (2021) DIR. MAGGIE GYLLENHAAL
When Leda (Olivia Colman), a forty-eight year old professor of comparative literature arrives with a suitcase full of books and papers for a working vacation on a beautifully sun-dappled Greek island, she is blissfully alone in a small villa overseen by a slightly-older caretaker, Lyle (Ed Harris). She seems totally self-sufficient and content. That is, until the arrival of the extended Callisto family, from Queens, NY which intrudes on both her physical and interior space. The Callisto’s have family ties with the island and have rented the huge pink villa on the hill every year which seems to entitle them to be as oblivious, and proprietary and “in your face” as they please. When Callie (Dagmara Domininczyk), the heavily pregnant matriarch, asks Leda to move down the beach to make room for their seaside sprawl, the seemingly mild-mannered Leda politely refuses. The mini-meltdown that ensues does nothing to soften Leda’s calm resolve. In fact, it is possible that it earns her some respect since it forces Callie to back-off.
It is against this backdrop that, whatever action there is, kicks in. There is a lot of mood setting with numerous ambiguous interactions between Leda and the Callisto family, the women expressing curiosity while the men seem to only glower suspiciously at Leda. The real action, however, is happening in flashbacks in Leda’s head. Watching the exchanges between Nina (Dakota Johnson), Callie’s daughter-in-law and mother to adolescent Elena is triggering memories from Leda’s own experience of motherhood. Nina is overwhelmed by Elena’s neediness and unhappy in her marriage which is imprisoning her with a suspicious husband. Once this door to her painful past is opened we begin to learn Leda’s story which is fed to us in too many short flashbacks. Young Leda is played by an excellent Jessie Buckley navigating a similar dilemma of a troubled marriage, stalled career and motherhood with two demanding daughters. The current Leda is, little by little, losing some of her carefully cultivated composure as her regrettable past is beginning to consume her.
The flashpoint comes when Elena goes briefly missing, only to be found by Leda. When she loses her doll, she becomes inconsolable and the search for the doll becomes the focus for days,
galvanizing the characters to unified action, while simultaneously arousing antipathies and suspicion and massive internalized guilt for Leda. There are a few subplots which ultimately go nowhere, and there are several carefully-staged ominous-seeming scenes and incidents, one involving a pinecone, which seem to serve no purpose except to produce a mood of generalized discomfort. Furtive glances, inexplicable behavior and lingering gazes seem to imply meaning which is often unrealized. As a technique it works to some extent to keep our attention engaged by these unappealing characters without eliciting much empathy. The opaque bookended opening and closing scene seems too clever by half. All of this aside, there are no words to describe the spellbinding performance by Olivia Colman who never ceases to amaze.
(R Rated for “joyful adultery and depressing parenting”)
Available on Netflix.