MUM'S THE WORD (THE LOST DAUGHTER)

 

Maggie Gyllenhaal's directorial debut 'The Lost Daughter' is drenched in mystery and tension.

From the tight close-ups on her characters to the sound of crying children, her psychological thriller drips with atmosphere and sets its viewers on edge throughout, as they try to figure out the motivations of Olivia Colman's character Leda.

It is a hugely impressive first feature - demanding a lot from its audience but giving an awful lot in return.

Adapted by Gyllenhaal from the Italian writer Elena Ferrante's novel, it begins with Colman's comparative literature professor Leda staggering onto a Greek beach late at night and collapsing by the water's edge.

The writer-director takes us back in time to Leda's arrival at her holiday villa where Ed Harris' ex-pat American Lyle is waiting for her to show her the facilities.

Leda has come to the Greek resort to soak up the sun while working on academic papers.

Going to the beach, she meets Paul Mescal's charming young Dubliner Will who works there.

Initially she has the beach all to herself but her solitude is disturbed by the arrival of the large and raucous Calista family who she becomes fascinated with - particularly Dakota Johnson's young mother Nina and her pregnant sister-in-law, Dagmara Dominczyk's Callie.

Leda and the Calistas do not get off to a great start, with Callie calling her a rude name because she refuses to give up her spot in the sun.

Callie later apologises.

Running into Will later, Leda strikes up a conversation and offers to take him to dinner where he flirts with her while she tells him about her daughters who are about his age.

During dinner, Will also hints that the Calistas are a rough family who she would do well not to cross.

Returning to the beach the next day, Leda is still gripped by Nina.

Pandemonium breaks out, however, when Nina's young daughter goes missing.

Joining the search, Leda eventually finds the child and is thanked by Nina and Callie.

However the little girl is upset because her favourite doll has gone missing.

We later learn Leda has the doll which triggers uncomfortable memories about her younger self, played by Jessie Buckley, and the raising of her kids.

As the Calistas spend the next few days trying to comfort Nina's daughter over the loss of her doll, Leda keeps it in her apartment and seems unwilling to part with it.

Why is she so determined to hold onto the doll?

Will she eventually give it back?

How will the Calistas react if she tells them or it is discovered in her possession?

Gyllenhaal delivers a truly original feature which really challenges its audience.

Playing with symbols of motherhood, this is not your typical depiction of family life.

Leda's flashbacks to her younger days accentuate just how draining it can be to be the mother of young, needy children while trying to forge a career.

Buckley's version of Leda is working on an Italian translation of a WB Yeats' poem while often having to tend to the needs of her daughters, Robyn Elwell's Bianca and Ellie Blake's Martha.

All of these memories of child rearing are not golden and they reveal how she was expected by her partner, Jack Farthing's Joe to take on the lion's share of the work.

Leda recalls one moment in her cramped New York apartment where Joe, who is a fellow academic, insists that she tends to the crying of one of the girls because he's on the phone working.

It's a scene that will no doubt be familiar to many working parents but it reveals an attitude that he believes his work is more important than hers.

In another episode, Leda punishes one of the girls for repeatedly slapping her by bundling the child into a bedroom only to smash a glass pane on the door as she slams it behind her in frustration.

Another memory of them encountering an unnamed backpacking couple, played by Nikos Poursanisis and Alba Rohrwacher, while on holiday proves pivotal.

Leda is captivated as the man reveals over the dinner table how he left his children and his marriage to find happiness in a new relationship.

A seed is planted but will Leda allow it to blossom? 

None of this is your typical Hollywood fare but it marks 'The Lost Daughter' out as a brave and challenging film.

Like Billie Piper's 'Rare Beasts,' Gyllenhaal asks tough questions about the power dynamics within relationships and the pressure on working mothers, in particular.

It is that perspective that makes 'The Lost Daughter' so refreshing.

As you would expect from an actor of Gyllenhaal's calibre, she is very comfortable working as a director with her accomplished cast.

Colman and Buckley dominate the movie as the two versions of Leda - bringing real depth and intelligence to their depiction of the Leeds-born academic.

As actors who have been on top of their game for quite some time, they don't actually have to say an awful lot to convey Leda's conflicting feelings but when they do, the dialogue is so pointed it often pierces her emotional armour.

Johnson is well cast as the young mum, while Dominczyk brings a menacing undercurrent to her probing questions to Leda, even when Callie is appearing to be friendly.

Mescal is a genial presence for much of the film but he also does plenty to suggest that Will is no angel.

Panos Koronis and Oliver Jackson-Cohen bring a disturbing, super macho presence to the film as Vassili and Toni Calista.

Ed Harris cuts an intriguing figure as Lyle, who in one sequence visits Leda to cook octopus for her in the villa and claims to have known Leonard Cohen and written songs with him for a laugh.

The always reliable Peter Sarsgaard also turns up as an academic who impresses the younger Leda at a conference.

As good as these performances are, it is Gyllenhaal's assured and instinctive direction that really impresses.

Working with French cinematographer Helene Louvart and Brazilian American film editor Alfonso Goncalves, not only does she make full use of the Greek setting of Spetses but she demonstrates a firm grasp of the psychology of filmmaking.

Tight close-ups and mid shots are effectively deployed at times of great stress and Louvart, a veteran of Agnes Varda and Leos Carax films, is especially good at capturing events from Leda's perspective.

Shots are framed in such a way as to heighten the feeling of anxiety that permeates the film.

In one sequence when Lyle goes out for a smoke on the balcony of the villa, Gyllenhaal and her cinematographer ensure in the top right hand corner of the frame over Leda's shoulder that we spot in the doorway the missing doll lying on a table outside.

This opens up the possibility that Lyle may see it but will he react in the way you might expect?

Louvart's camera also captures the suffocating claustrophobia of the younger Leda's family apartment and magnificently contrasts it with the vast expanse of a table at a dinner party at an academic conference she attends where she encounters Sarsgaard's charismatic Professor Hardy.

Few films have been as well choreographed as Gyllenhaal's over the past year.

Few have been as well acted.

Few have been as demanding of its audience's attention or as rewarding.

Packed full of symbolism and boasting a highly visual narrative that projects what is going on in its central character's mind, 'The Lost Daughter' is a sophisticated piece of cinema.

It marks Gyllenhaal out as a writer-director with a great cinematic eye..

The movie also demands and justifies repeat viewing.

Once the credits roll, you will find yourself hoping Gyllenhaal has many opportunities to direct in the future.

It only seems right because hers is a filmmaking talent that should really be allowed to blossom.

('The Lost Daughter' was released in UK and Irish cinemas on December 17, 2021 and was made available for streaming on Netflix on December 31, 2021)

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