Review: The Lost Daughter (2021) dir. Maggie Gyllenhaal

At the beginning of The Lost Daughter, the directorial debut of actress Maggie Gyllenhaal, we aren't really sure what we are getting into. The film follows Leda, a 48-year old professor on a "working holiday" in Greece. Seems pretty straightforward. But what we end up with is a mysterious character study of a woman reflecting on her life as a mother that plays out almost like a thriller. It's an interesting and bold approach for a film that successfully shatters the myth that motherhood comes naturally to all women.

The Lost Daughter is most definitely not a film for people looking for a lot of plot-driving action, however it is backed by some stellar performances by the entire cast. Dakota Johnson is excellent in her supporting role as Nina, a struggling young mother vacationing in the same town as Leda. However, the real standouts are Jessie Buckley and Olivia freaking Colman who play young and present day Leda, respectively.

Buckley is incredibly convincing as a young woman caught up in the whirlwind of being a mother all whilst trying to pursue her career. You can really feel how overwhelmed she is with her family life and despite her lack of maternal warmth and blatant inability to understand her children, she still manages to make us feel bad for her. It is the exact justification we need for when Leda begins flirting with the idea of the life she could have had, had she never become a mother. In the present, Colman very subtly plays a paranoid, neurotic, and awkward Leda. It is a very nuanced way to show what happens to a woman who never felt comfortable in her skin, but now has the freedom to do whatever she wants. Though the thing is, she doesn't know what she wants. You get the sense that, though she knows she was never mother of the year, a part of her will always regret some of the decisions she made. What is most impressive about these two performances is how well they work together. Given that the story weaves in and out of scenes from Leda's past, their ability to play the same person separated by decades of experiences, but with equal expressiveness, makes the film entirely convincing.

Throughout the film Leda is tormented by her role as a mother. In the past, she battles against the restraints her children put on her time, academic career, and sexuality. In the present, she is haunted by her failures and the condemnation of walking away from that life. In this way, The Lost Daughter destroys the idea that motherhood will give just as much as it takes away; a bold statement from a female-led, female-directed film. It is a piece for the women who go against what is expected of them; the ones who feel motherhood doesn't actualize the self, but stifles it.

It is crucial though that The Lost Daughter is not just a depressing piece about a woman incapable of tenderness who resents her children. Leda's character is redeemed in the moments where she is caring, expressive, and even playful with her daughters, reminding us of the ups and downs of being a parent. It makes her real, and refuses to allow the audience to write her off or blame her. After all, Leda reminds us of the "crushing responsibility" that is motherhood, so who can blame a woman who just wasn't meant for it.