
  Review by
        Eric Hillis
  Directed by: Amat Escalante
  Starring: Juan Daniel García Treviño, Ester Expósito, Bárbara Mori, Fernando
      Bonilla, Mafer Osio
 
    
      While Mexican filmmaker Amat Escalante continues to highlight
        his country's well-documented social injustices and corruption, his
        latest feature, Lost in the Night, is his most mainstream work to date, the sort of socially conscious
        thriller Hollywood regularly pumped out before the dawn of superhero
        movies. The usual graphic sex and violence you expect from Escalante is
        still present but toned down by his standards, and in casting Latina
        superstar Ester Expósito (the Spanish speaking world's Sydney
        Sweeney) in a key role, you might surmise the filmmaker is eager to win
        over a youthful audience beyond his core base of crusty film festival
        attendees.
    
      The film takes place in a small town in rural Mexico where a Canadian
        owned mine has divided the residents. In the prologue we see a small
        group of protestors ambushed by cops on a late night highway. Three
        years later, Emiliano (Juan Daniel García Treviño), the teenage
        son of one of the "disappeared" women, receives a clue from a dying cop
        wishing to confess his sins. Unable to speak due to severe burns, the
        cop writes a name on a piece of paper. The name is that of Carmen (Bárbara Mori), an actress/singer who lives in a modernist mansion on the outskirts
        of town with her Spanish contemporary artist boyfriend Rigo (Fernando Bonilla) and her teenage daughter Monica (Expósito).

      Hoping to find answers, Emiliano and his girlfriend Jasmin (Mafer Osio) inveigle themselves into the home of Carmen and Rigo, with Emiliano
        performing manual handywork while Jasmin acts as babysitter. Harassed by
        a religious sect offended by Rigo's blasphemous artwork, the affluent
        couple have a pair of local cops at their beck and call, one of whom we
        know was involved in the disappearance of Emiliano's mother, knowledge
        the audience is aware of thanks to the prologue but which Emiliano isn't
        privy to. Emiliano grows suspicious of a water tank on the property,
        believing it might be filled with corpses, including that of his
        mother.
    
      Much like David Lynch's Blue Velvet, Lost in the Night features the sort of naïve young
        protagonists who belong in an Enid Blyton story finding themselves out
        of their depth in a dangerous adult world. Despite the hardships they've
        faced in their young lives, Emiliano and Jasmin still possess an
        adorable innocence, and while they may live in one of the most dangerous
        places in the western world they still have a capacity to be shocked by
        the lengths people will go to when spurred by greed. Emiliano's naivete
        sees him taken under the wing of Rigo, who seems determined to serve as
        a father figure for the young man. We're left to wonder if Rigo is
        motivated by guilt, if he was indeed involved in the disappearance of
        the boy's mother.

      Escalante contrasts the innocence and purity of an awkward but romantic
        sexual fumble between Emiliano and Jasmin with Emiliano's gradual
        seduction by the worldly and predatory Monica. Like the young
        protagonists of Hal Ashby's Harold and Maude and Charlotte
        Le Bon's recent directorial debut
        Falcon Lake, Monica spends her time filming increasingly elaborate fake suicides
        which she streams to a large audience of adoring fans. When she
        confesses a shocking story involving an attempted rape, we're left to
        wonder if she's genuine or simply trying to shock the innocent
        Emiliano.
    
      Like many filmmakers who trade in sex and violence, Escalante has been
        written off by his detractors as nothing more than a shock merchant, a
        provocateur who gets off on getting a rise out of his audience. Through
        the characters of Rigo and Monica, Escalante seems to be interrogating
        his own image. When Rigo offers to create a piece of conceptual art
        around Emiliano's search for his mother, the boy reacts badly, seeing it
        as a crass and distasteful gesture. Does Rigo represent filmmakers like
        Escalante, who have made a living off portraying the suffering of
        others?

      Lost in the Night is never quite as tense or suspenseful
        as its premise might suggest, and Emiliano never really seems to be in
        any tangible jeopardy until very late on. Escalante seems more
        interested in exploring the power dynamics of his film's characters than
        in teasing out a mystery, and he doesn't seem au fait with how thrillers
        are structured so as to keep the audience gripped by an unfolding plot.
        Twists and turns are dealt out in sloppy fashion, mostly through
        characters literally confessing their deeds to our young hero, who is
        something of a passenger in the film, stumbling across the truth rather
        than uncovering it through his snooping.
    
      Those expecting an immersive mystery plot will be ill-served here, but
        those familiar with and receptive to Escalante's ability to build mood
        and atmosphere should be more appreciative. Escalante has always had a
        knack for creating a sense of place, and that's the case here. We feel
        like we know Emiliano's world better than the young man might himself.
        It's a world where seemingly everyone has traded a part of themselves to
        get by. In the wide-eyed Emiliano and Jasmin, touched but unsullied by
        the greed and deceit that blights their land, we're offered a glimpse of
        a potentially brighter future for Mexico.
    
     
      
      Lost in the Night is on UK/ROI VOD from March 4th.
    
     
