The Lost Daughter

The cryptic title might suggest a missing-persons thriller filled with twisty suspense, but the parental heartache in The Lost Daughter is almost entirely internal.

A thoughtful portrait of middle-aged regret and rebirth through the story of a woman who builds strength through her vulnerability, this richly textured drama marks a sharp directorial debut for actor Maggie Gyllenhaal (Secretary).

It’s galvanized by another quietly powerful performance from Olivia Colman (The Father), whose subtle shifts in facial expression and body language speak almost as loudly as the dialogue, accentuated by the director’s predilection for close-ups.

Colman plays Leda, a British professor who is carrying more than just physical baggage when she takes a solo vacation to a Greek seaside resort. While meeting the locals, she seems preoccupied and takes vaguely concerning calls from an unknown acquaintance back home.

Nevertheless, she becomes charmed by the American caretaker (Ed Harris) of her beach house, and after an awkward first meeting, is friendly with a neighboring family that includes Nina (Dakota Johnson), a young mother with issues of her own.

Leda is insecure and socially withdrawn, prompting the gradual reveal of secrets from her past through abundant flashbacks. They find a younger Leda (Jessie Buckley) struggling to balance professional obligations with raising her two daughters, while an older colleague (Peter Sarsgaard) tempts her romantically.

In the present, her obsession over Nina’s turmoil prompts an opportunity, perhaps unwelcome, to confront her past.

The Lost Daughter doesn’t wallow in Leda’s anguish or misery, instead ruminating on the residual consequences of her past indiscretions without turning heavy-handed. While trying to unburden herself, the trip proves therapeutic in ways she hadn’t planned.

The film benefits from a lush exotic backdrop, and the multicultural supporting cast brings depth to the periphery roles both past and present.

Gyllenhaal’s deliberately paced screenplay, based on an Italian novel by Elena Ferrante, develops some intriguing character dynamics but also withholds contextual details to a chilly and mildly frustrating degree.

Still, while exploring maternal instincts, parental responsibility, and the impact of motherhood on mental health, Gyllenhaal doesn’t settle for pat emotional resolutions. Just as Leda isn’t an easy target for sympathy, the film’s path to catharsis and empowerment is bittersweet.

Rated R, 121 minutes.