Girl Lost: A Documentary Review
I first saw the trailer for “Girl Lost” when it popped up as an advertisement before a YouTube video I was about to watch. I can’t remember what the video I was trying to watch was. But I’m guessing “Girl Lost” was recommended to me through the configurations of an algorithm that noticed how much Google research I’ve been doing lately on the human trafficking epidemic in the United States (#justdressemberinternthings).
“Interesting,” I thought. At the time, I had never really delved into cinema that explored human trafficking or even explored any independent films for that matter. But I figured that it would be worth checking out, especially if, as the trailer claims, the film is “a powerful drama” that is “perfectly executed in every way.”
Released in 2016 and re-released on Amazon Prime in 2018, the fictional film was originally titled “Nowhereland,” and advertises itself as an exploration of the seedy underbelly of Hollywood as seen through the eyes of a fifteen-year-old girl who is groomed into the sex industry by her own mother.
The main character, Shara, has no money, no father figure, and no place to live. Her mother, played by the film’s director and writer, Robin Bain, reminds Shara as they board an elevator on their way to meet a client, “All we have is you and me.”
In print, this line can come off as heartwarming - -in the ruthless culture of Los Angeles, all a mother and daughter have is their bond with each other. But in the film, Shara’s mother says this as a reminder that all they have is themselves: their bodies. This sets the stage for the tone of the film, as the director follows Shara while she navigates homelessness, abuse, and sex trafficking. Her mother, a sex worker herself, is emotionally and verbally abusive, dragging Shara around from motel to motel or between various apartments subletted by equally abusive landlords.
Shara forms a relationship with a landlord’s son, a bond that gives viewers a hope of redemption for Shara. But the destructive and toxic cycles she lives in destroy this relationship as well, leaving her destitute, alone and without hope. As a viewer, I felt hopeless, too. But the film also left me feeling a different emotion that I’m not sure I can quite pinpoint. Confusion? Distaste?
You see, “Girl Lost” set itself up to be a thought-provoking film that highlights the heartbreaking reality of sex trafficking in the United States. I was expecting staggering statistics, a compelling story, and encouragement for viewers to take action against trafficking.
But in real-time, it reads more like a softcore porn flick than a moving message. The film was very graphic and explicit, and while I understand that a film that covers such a difficult topic may need to include some mature content in order to effectively convey its meaning, the content of “Girl Lost” felt unwarranted and borderline objectifying.
At least two actors in the film come from the adult industry, a fact I include not to degrade their acting performance but to disclose the tone of the movie. The lead actress does her best with a role that offers little room for expansion or development, and I was confused as to why the film touts itself as a groundbreaking exposé that is the recipient of twelve independent film festival awards.
It made me think about why we live in a culture where this kind of film would be applauded. Am I missing something? I felt disappointed to see that the film, advertised as an artistic and engaging project that brings awareness to trafficking, did little to inform viewers of their role in the fight against it. It was a heartbreaking narrative to a point but offered almost nothing in the way of real-life stories or statistics that would invigorate audiences to action.
I’ve concluded that the vast majority of the public still doesn’t know--doesn’t realize the gravity of the problem, doesn’t realize its prevalence in our own communities, doesn’t want to grapple with its hard reality. It feels as though the culture would rather skim vaguely over the topic of human trafficking than deal with the uncomfortable truth that our personal habits might be contributing to it.
So pass on “Girl Lost.” Require more from filmmakers, ask for more awareness to be spread about the issue, and don’t stop doing what you can to fight for individuals in a trafficking situation. They deserve more than a brief statistic at the beginning of an independent flick. You can start with Dressember--this year the campaign has raised over $2.5 million that will go directly to efforts that combat trafficking! Consider joining the movement next December when participants all over the world will wear a dress every day of the month to raise awareness. Your small choices add up to make a big impact.
And lastly, if you know of a good quality film that deals with this subject, let us know!
About the Author
Allison McCune is a girl of many interests. Whether it’s slinging drinks as a barista, hiking 600 miles in one summer, or dissecting poetry and literature, she brings passion and insight to everything she does. She hopes to refine her writing in the next few years while using her skills to work with non-profit groups. Her goal is to eventually return to school, complete a doctoral degree, and be able to teach at the undergrad and graduate levels.