Lost: The Pain and Pleasure of Old Love

Harvey Kadijk’s 10-minute Lost delves into long-term love and grief through its characters Dalo and Sarah, introducing them on the brink of a whole new life. In retrospect, it is surprisingly more exuberant than you would expect. 

This is due entirely to a single shot but the abruptness and sheer unbounded joy in it leave their impact on the film as a whole. Sarah (Jihane el Fahidi) announces her pregnancy to Dalo (Aristo Mijnals) when he is barely awake—grogginess is the sum of his characterisation until then. The news, when he finally comprehends the concreteness of it, wakes him up proper. Inserted here, wonderfully whimsical and out of place, is a sudden, brief glimpse into Dalo’s head. Jumping and shrieking for joy in there, he is hilariously stupefied in reality. The image of Dalo popping in and out of the frame, lit by a bright and happy sun, is the (obvious) highlight of the film. Mijnals is pitch perfect in his warmth, enthusiasm, and gravity. El Fahidi is a grounding presence, fully embodying her character’s refined domesticity. 

Yet this is but part of it. The discontinuity, most notable here, becomes the dominant feeling of the film. Here becomes fragmented by many theres, the past and present weaving around each other on a single plane of equal importance. The flashbacks, like sunlight on ripened grain and gentle autumn rain, are not expository. Instead they are naturalised, a part of the character’s everyday experience. 

A modestly memorable film, Lost is sweet in its joys and soothing in its view on grief. The clues are planted early on, yet there is no trickster’s victorious exclamation to bookend them. A lot humbler, the narrative, with its memories and memorabilia, unfolds less like a puzzle than the process of getting to know someone.