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UK/France 1998
Reviewed by Richard Falcon
Our synopses give away the plot in full, including surprise twists.
Lombard, a French private detective, makes his living blackmailing unfaithful wives in London. Carlos, an old colleague from Lombard's days in the Paris narcotics bureau, has married into the rich Spitz family. Despite the antipathy of Carlos' wife Deborah, the family hires Lombard to find Deborah's missing brother Leon, a photographer. Lombard follows a lead to a house in Felixstowe, where Leon's lover Emily is in hiding with a traumatised young boy, Shiva, who has been abused by a paedophile ring. Emily gives Lombard a video which had fallen into Leon's hands showing the abuse. She tells him that the ring is led by "The Austrian".
Lombard contacts his old friend Nathalie, now a high-class hooker. Using her pimp's contacts, Lombard poses as a paedophile to meet some gangsters dealing child slaves. Paying the contacts £10,000 of Nathalie's cash, he is driven to a hotel where he is left alone with a little boy. Exploding with rage, Lombard wounds, tortures and kills one of the gangsters after discovering from him that The Austrian is named Friedman and lives in Mexico. After dropping the boy with Emily, Lombard finds Nathalie murdered. The Spitz family fires him.
Lombard flies to Mexico where he confronts Friedman only to be drugged and held prisoner. Friedman tells him Leon was murdered after uncovering the ring. Lombard escapes and kills Friedman. Back in London, Lombard reveals Emily's address to the Spitz family and waits in Felixstowe for the trap to be sprung. Carlos - the leader of the ring and himself a paedophile - arrives to kill him. The abused boy shoots Carlos dead.
In this surprisingly generic third feature by director Chris Menges, Daniel Auteuil's detective is suitably world weary and beleaguered by backstory. His wife and child were murdered by a gangster, making him sensitive to the suffering of children. Former cinematographer Menges shares his empathy. His prize-winning A World Apart successfully anatomised the evils of apartheid through its young heroine, while Second Best gave us an affecting psychodrama about troubled childhood. However, in The Lost Son the children - Shiva, locked away in a traumatised protective custody and Boy Number 6 - are silenced and abused, the objects of commercial sexual exploitation and the spur for Auteuil's redemptive wrath. Only one moment, when the two boys meet and are seen fleetingly striking up a tentative friendship, creates them as characters rather than pawns in a lurid crime fantasy. The Lost Son is scrupulous in its presentation of their abuse - invoking it visually only through the tape watched by Auteuil and the sex aids in the soundproofed hotel room. However, it's difficult not to feel that subjecting this most emotive of subjects to a by-numbers detective film and star vehicle is in itself a dubious business.
This is largely the fault of the script, which launches into its dismaying revelations about the paedophile ring very early on with Katrin Cartlidge's Emily (one of three thankless female roles here) screaming at Lombard, "Yeah, sex with kids!" to explain what he's dealing with. Unlike classic noir which uses degradation and perversion to mirror and reveal a world of institutionalised corruption, The Lost Son looks very thin on either subtext or wider perspective. What you see is what you get - which is Daniel kicking the asses of a bunch of evil child-slavers.
At least Lombard's impersonation of a punter to gain access to the ring generates dread and suspense as one of the tapas-munching villains elaborates on what Lombard can expect from the "puppies". ("If your puppy should get ill or die," Lombard is told, "we provide a full after-sales service.") In the light of such unequivocal evil, Lombard's outbursts of righteous violence are undeniably cathartic, but the plot's one-dimensionality makes The Lost Son little more than a humourless action movie. This conclusion is unavoidable when after learning that the children are being farmed in "places where life is cheap," Lombard flies to Mexico to take on the operation single-handed. The change of scenery after a blandly observed, neon-lit Soho is welcome but pretty pointless. When Auteuil searches Leon's studio he discovers a video of Peeping Tom. No one, however, will be making a pilgrimage to Soho to seek out the locations of The Lost Son.