
Maggie Gyllenhal’s directorial debut The Lost Daughter is an adaptation of the novel by Elena Ferrante by the same name. The movie follows Leda, a professor who is on vacation in a seaside town in Greece. While she hopes for some peace and quiet, the noisy atmosphere as well as her interactions with two other women- one who is a young struggling mother and the other, a heavily pregnant woman expecting her first child (who’s rather chill about it)- act as a trigger for Leda, leading to her reexamining her past human errors and also further unleashes an array of dizzying memories of her own traumatic, claustrophobic experience as a young mother.

A majority of the movie focuses on an older Leda’s run-ins with the young, nervous mum Nina (played by Dakota Johnson) who is often at the mercy of her overwhelmingly chaotic daughter and her equally chaotic in-laws and through a series of flashbacks, viewers are also introduced to a young and equally morose Leda who has a tendency to cope with the lack of love, attention and empathy from her absentee husband by partaking in impulsive decisions that have harmful consequences on her children too. One of this includes engaging in acts of infidelity with a fellow poetry enthusiast whom she shares long intellectual conversations with and who also reciprocates her attention. While the emotionally exhausted mother of two finds temporary solace in such moments, these eventually also lead to her growing more bitter and resentful towards the absentee father of her children and later transforming into an absentee parent herself.


Leda does have her share of moments where I could truly relate to her, mainly when she geeks out over poetry like a literature nerd or wherein she attempts social interaction but instantly develops cold feet just at the thought of it, but the aforementioned incidents of human error also drove me away from idolising this character too much. And while she does have redeeming qualities such as constantly looking out for Nina and even acting like a maternal figure towards the young mother (perhaps as a means of repenting for her own personal errors), these are too few and far between.

Gyllenhaal who also penned the screenplay does an impeccable job at steering clear of glorifying Leda’s selfish, impromptu, often sadistic acts, thus allowing viewers to perceive her as a flawed human being rather than painting her as a trope of the perfect mum or idealised, dutiful spouse who can juggle work and parenting with a gleeful smile. Simultaneously, one is invited to also view Leda as someone who has tried every trick in the parenting book to no avail, only to drive herself to the brink of exhaustion, stifled and sacrificed her own desires in favour of those of her loved ones but only ended up with an abundance of unrequited love and longing in return. While I am not justifying Leda’s actions, I felt that such a layered portrayal might further compel viewers to understand this character and her motives a bit better, even if they aren’t entirely invested in sympathising with the character, much like I was.
The decision to draw parallels between both the older and younger Leda also appealed to me as a narrative device and it further opened a window into Leda’s psyche and her conscious (or even unconscious) attempts to break free entirely from the suffocating role of a devoted mother and spouse (as she frustratingly describes it in one scene). A scene in particular that stood out for me was young Leda frustratingly lashing out at her daughters for throwing temper tantrums and later an older Leda’s maternal instincts kicking in as she attempts to silence a noisy group of youth at a theatre during her vacation with equal amounts of frustration and anguish, which was a rather subtle reminder of how a mother’s job is always far from over.

Jessie Buckley is the best casting decision to play a younger version of a character since Lily James playing a younger version of Meryl Streep’s character in the Mamma Mia sequel. And by this,I mean that the actor deserves heaps of accolade for expertly embodying Leda, especially in portraying her exhausted demeanor, mannerisms and even speech pattern in a manner that is eerily reminiscent to how Olivia Colman portrays the older version of this same character. Each time that the parallels were drawn between both versions of Leda, I could honestly not tell them apart from each other. Both Colman and Buckley do justice in capturing the trials and tribulations of an exhausted mother and an unloved spouse who is both a victim of unrequited love and simultaneously the perpetrator of similar selfish and emotionally distant behaviours herself. Other known faces like Ed Harris, Dakota Johnson and Peter Sarsgaard too lend ample support in their respective roles. I especially found Harris’ chemistry with Colman quite endearing and wholesome. His character of the lonely and charismatic caretaker Lyle who initially doesn’t seem to understand the concept of personal boundaries but later constantly pledges loyalty to Leda and gradually becomes her confidante was also one of the highlights of this movie for me and brought in a soothing touch to an otherwise very stress-inducing movie. In fact I wished he was in it a lot more!
If character studies of inherently flawed maternal figures sound appealing to you, then The Lost Daughter is definitely a must watch.
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