Netflix’s insatiable desire for true crime drama recently spawned Lost Girls, a drama so generic that it is almost impossible to become emotionally connected to the very unfortunate events that lie at the heart of its narrative. Amy Ryan does her very best to elevate proceedings but cannot repress the flat tone and plodding pace that cripple Liz Garbus’ picture.
While this is unfortunate, I think it is reflective of a general malaise that has beset the genre as a whole. There are countless tales of familial heartbreak but when they are as commonplace in the film industry as they are today, their impact wains and this ultimately does a disservice to the victims. I guess in these cases it’s only the reaction of the affected families that matter, but this felt a little hollow to me.