The Lost Daughter (2021, R)

An interesting film that reminds me a little of 2017’s The Wife (interestingly, Glenn Close in that film lost the Oscar to Olivia Colman for The Favourite,) but there’s a bit of something else in there too, maybe something along the lines of Gone Girl or A Simple Favor. It’s a complicated portrait of a woman who’s had a difficult time dealing with her assigned “role” in life, digging deeply into the character’s past while following her present.

While on holiday in Greece, Leda becomes increasingly consumed with the lives of a mother and young daughter she sees on the beach. Their interactions remind her of her own experience as a young mother, and past and present conflate as she gets to know the woman while her memories swirl around her.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say the film is a psychological thriller, but it’s deeply engrossing psychologically and many of the present-day scenes have this undercurrent of menace to them that’s really gripping. Leda’s encounters with the young mother Nina and her extended family (who we’re told in hushed voices are “bad people”) are laced with tension—even seemingly innocuous pleasantries have a dark tinge around the edges, and you’re constantly waiting for some other shoe to drop.

Maggie Gyllenhaal does double duty as both director and writer here, and she scores a Best Adapted Screenplay nod for the film, which is based on a novella. Leda is a fascinating character, if not a particularly likable one. She can give off the impression of being mousy/a doormat at a times, but she’s actually very firm in a quiet, reserved way. This places her in stark contrast to Nina’s loud, brash family, and the more she telegraphs that she wants to keep to herself, the more people seem drawn to her. Some of her choices are downright baffling, reflecting a character with lots of baggage that the flashback scenes only scratch the surface of, but she’s never boring.

In the flashbacks, we see a driven, intelligent young woman who’s utterly overwhelmed by the noise, energy, and sheer want of her two daughters. Both she and her husband work, but as so often happens, childcare is framed mainly as her purview, and so she’s alone with the girls for long stretches of time, desperately trying to hang onto a semblance of self amid young children demanding her constant attention.

I always appreciate portrayals of women who really struggle with motherhood. Women who love their children but make consequential mistakes, who feel abandoned by their partners and feel the demands of their responsibilities such that they have a hard time relaxing into the joyful moments when they come. Young Leda gets plenty of things wrong, but she’s also handling an enormous undertaking with barely with support or leeway, and so I understand why she sometimes feels trapped by her own family.

The always-reliable Olivia Colman does great, understated work as Leda. Colman is one of those actresses who can give the impression of hardly doing anything at all, but the many subtleties in her performances come together to create characters who feel very specific, honest portrayals of imperfect human beings. In the flashbacks, young Leda is played by Jessie Buckley, who I know best from the fourth season of Fargo. In addition to absolutely nailing Colman’s voice, Buckley does a fine job conveying Leda’s end-of-her-rope frustration, which is wrapped up in the shame of knowing motherhood is “supposed” to come “naturally.” Both actresses garnered Oscar nominations, in the leading and supporting categories respectively. The film also features Dakota Johnson, who’s very effective as Nina, along with Ed Harris, who never disappoints.

Warnings

Strong thematic elements, brief violence, sexual content, language (including the C-word,) and drinking/smoking.