For some people, true crime functions as a kind of comfort food. However, that meal might not go down so easily in Missing: The Lucie Blackman Case (now streaming on Netflix). Her disappearance while working abroad and the wider ring of corruption that it helped expose unfurls in such a way that its resolution might not be so neat.
The Gist: The young British girl Lucie Blackman goes missing in Tokyo, where she worked as a hostess, in the summer of 2000. At the time, the prevailing image of Japan to Westerners was one of a safe, polite society. But that disguised a darker underbelly of exploitation and danger into which she fell at the club Roppongi. Her father, Tim, was willing to disrupt the system by using his showmanship to drive her discovery forward. Out of concern that Lucie would not receive a full police investigation because she was not a Japanese national, he begins involving the British tabloids … and even gets Prime Minister Tony Blair’s attention.
But all those spotlights won’t bring back his daughter. And, frankly, neither would the regular course of action for Tokyo’s police. It takes a dogged female investigator Nauryama to put the puzzle pieces together and realize a sexual predator has been on the loose at Roppongi. When they land on the suspect Jo Obara, the wealthy president of a property management firm, the case suddenly begins to look much different for all involved.
What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: Foreigners getting in trouble abroad, either by their own making or simply catching an unlucky break, recalls other Netflix documentaries like Amanda Knox or The Disappearance of Madeline McCann.
Performance Worth Watching: There are no “performances,” per se, in a documentary. But the figure who comes across most sympathetically, even in spite of his flaws, is Superintendent Akira Mitsuzane. The way that he continues to live with the repercussions of the case and honor Lucy’s legacy provides a rare glimmer of light in an otherwise grim film.
Memorable Dialogue: “The fact that Lucie came from a foreign country to work and then became the victim of such a crime in our country has left a certain emotion in my heart,” Superintendent Katsuyoshi Abe confesses sincerely, “which is still there.”
Sex and Skin: Plenty of discussion around the heinous sex crimes of Jo Obara, and mercifully none of them are shown or even so much as hinted at. The static of a VHS tape, of which he possessed nearly 400 filming his defiling, says plenty.
Our Take: It’s legitimately shocking to see that the director of Missing: The Lucie Blackman Case is not a Westerner. Director Hyoe Yamamoto structures the story around the outsider’s perspective to a startling degree, which lends the documentary the feeling of a classic “white woman in danger” narrative. The narrative axis of the film revolves around Tim Blackman, even in spite of the actual groundwork to learn the truth was done almost entirely by Japanese police. Particularly with the peerless Nauryama, it feels like the film just leaves far too many narrative threads unfollowed and cultural contexts unexplained. Without examining these tensions more fully, this paint-by-numbers true crime documentary ends up feeling like it gawks at the country of its setting.
Our Call: SKIP IT. True crime aficionados who will soak up any content with a hint of intrigue might find Missing worth the watch. But even they might have to concede that the telling of this tale leaves a lot to be desired. Be it the skewed perspective or the lack of imagination beyond the immediate specifics of the case, this 82-minute doc misses the mark.
Marshall Shaffer is a New York-based freelance film journalist. In addition to Decider, his work has also appeared on Slashfilm, Slant, The Playlist and many other outlets. Some day soon, everyone will realize how right he is about Spring Breakers.
Watch Missing: The Lucie Blackman Case on Netflix