The Lost Daughter

Grade: B+

I had never heard of Olivia Colman, and then all of a sudden, she was about to get an Academy Award. Her Best Actress win for The Favourite was 3 years ago. I wasn’t crazy about that film. Last year, she received her second Oscar nomination for playing Anthony Hopkins’s daughter in The Father, which I thought was one of the best movies of the year. Now she is primed for another potential nomination with The Lost Daughter, which I enjoyed almost as much as The Father. I haven’t seen anything, or heard of most of her filmography before The Favourite, so it’s understandable that she wasn’t on my radar. She is a highly skilled actress who makes her mark more and more each time I see her, and if I could officially vote for the Oscars, she’d get mine for The Lost Daughter.

She plays Leda, a single divorcee with two grown daughters. She is an English teacher/aspiring writer who, during the summer, takes a solo vacation in a resort near the beach and sea. I chuckled a little bit when Leda says she’s 48 years old, and was going to write that I don’t think Colman can pass for 48 anymore. Imagine my surprise to discover she’s actually not even 48. Born in 1974. Her birthday’s tomorrow. I’m not intending to age-shame – she’s a beautiful lady either way. She has such a mature face, and I am wondering if anyone else thought she was a significantly different age.

Actually, the more I watched The Lost Daughter, the more I felt she could pass as an older Maggie Gyllenhaal, who – incidentally – makes her feature film debut here, as director and writer (working from the novel by Elena Ferrante). Leda isn’t a hermit or recluse, but mainly stays aloof and keeps to herself during her vacation. The movie is a series of conversations and social situations where, like boats that are docked right next to each other, things ebb and flow. Connect and drift apart. Over and over. There’d be a beat that would make me feel uneasy and squirm with uncomfortableness, and then would come a line or development that would draw me back in to safety and make me satisfied.

Consider a scene where a large boisterous extended family descends on the beach where Leda has been relaxing, and Callie, a young woman from the family, asks Leda if she’d mind moving over to the next beach chair so the family could be all together. Leda politely declines. This conflict made me feel awkward on their behalf, and I could see where both sides were coming from. She didn’t have to move; she was there first, and there are no reservations on those beach chairs. On the other hand, the majority of people would have moved. You don’t HAVE to hold the door open for the next person coming in, but a) most people do, b) it’s the nice thing to do, and c) you look like a jerk if you don’t. Later on, Callie approaches Leda again with a piece of cake and says “Sorry about earlier. Want some cake from my birthday party?” After a few minutes of chatting, Leda says “I’m sorry as well.” Tension and release. Ebb and flow.

We learn Leda’s backstory bit by bit through flashbacks, which feature spot-on work by Jessie Buckley as young Leda. She is uncannily convincing as a younger Olivia Colman, and the next best thing, since Maggie Gyllenhaal was otherwise occupied. Do we have a dark horse Best Supporting Actress nomination here?

Don Johnson and Melanie Griffith’s daughter Dakota Johnson does memorable work as Nina, a worn-out mother from the large family who uses a lot of F bombs when talking to her fellow adults. She reminds Leda of herself, and they form a bond. Ed Harris plays Lyle – the caretaker/renter of the apartment where Leda stays. Lyle likes her, but respects boundaries, and is the consummate gentleman.

Fans of David Lynch – and especially Oliver Stone – will appreciate the filmmaking techniques employed here. Many times, a character will be speaking while another quick shot is used of that same character, with their mouth not moving. Numerous shots are claustrophobic close-ups. If you’re watching on a phone or iPad, you might feel the urge to zoom out with your fingers. The movie doesn’t end with everything neatly solved and resolved. It is a series of beats and episodes, and an interesting look into how a person’s past colors how they behave now. The Lost Daughter is a sometimes humorous, but often dark ride. I didn’t feel compelled to do a lot of pausing or check the time. It’s easy to get lost in it, and is an impressive debut from Gyllenhaal.

Grade: B+