Lost Child

Lost Child never becomes as affecting or suspenseful as it should be.

The slow-burning thriller walks a fine line, balancing elements of psychological drama and the supernatural, with a surging undercurrent of social commentary that sneaks up on you.

At the end of the day, Leven Rambin still manages to hold the film together and as previously mentioned, its supernatural elements prove to be intriguing.

A haunting examination of folklore and isolation.

Though Lost Child does try to strike at a deeper emotional core through its mishmash of tropes, the over-glossed methodology and cheap resonance make the experience ultimately (and thoroughly) underwhelming.

Tries to have things both ways, raising supernatural overtones while trying to remain grounded in reality, and it doesn't succeed in maintaining the delicate balance that combination requires.

I really tried to like Lost Child, given the Missouri connection and my interest in folklore, but ultimately I had to admit defeat.

The way Mosley astutely weaves in comments about America's societal issues is perhaps the most chilling thing of all.

An extraordinarily delicate balancing act between drama and horror, visually and psychologically expansive, set in a place where stories of monsters are not mere entertaining fun, and where superstition is not harmless.

With Lost Child, Mosely has created another modern day myth, and it doesn't hurt that she keeps casting my favorite actresses.