The Lost City of Z: A Considered Take
James Gray's The Lost City of Z is a slow-burn adventure that rewards patient viewers with gorgeous filmmaking and a genuinely compelling true story. Absolutely worth a watch.
If you search 'James Gray Lost City of Z,' you'll find a lot of critics calling it underseen and underappreciated — and honestly, they're right. Released in 2017 without much fanfare, the film quietly became one of the better adventure dramas of the decade. It's the kind of movie that doesn't announce itself loudly, but if you give it the time it asks for, it gives a lot back.
The real Percy Fawcett was a British Army officer turned explorer who made multiple expeditions into the Amazon in the early 20th century, convinced that a sophisticated pre-Columbian civilization — which he called 'Z' — was waiting to be discovered. He disappeared on his final expedition in 1925, along with his son Jack. David Grann wrote a bestselling book about the story in 2009, and Gray spent years trying to get the film adaptation made. That passion is visible in every frame.
What makes the film interesting beyond the adventure plot is how Gray frames Fawcett's obsession. This isn't a straightforward hero's journey. Fawcett is driven, sometimes to the detriment of his family and his own wellbeing, and the film doesn't shy away from that tension. Sienna Miller's Nina Fawcett is left behind again and again, and the movie at least acknowledges the cost of that, even if it doesn't fully explore it.
One of the quietly great things about The Lost City of Z is how it handles the indigenous peoples Fawcett encounters. For a film set in the early 1900s, it's surprisingly thoughtful — Fawcett is portrayed as genuinely respectful of Amazonian cultures at a time when that was a minority view, and the film doesn't use indigenous characters purely as backdrop or threat. It's a small thing, but it matters.
If you're building a watchlist of films that deserve more eyeballs, this one belongs on it. It's not a popcorn movie, but it's the kind of film you'll find yourself thinking about the next day — which, for my money, is worth more than a flashier two hours that evaporates the moment the credits roll.