In advance of International Production Design Week, running October 17 through 26, 2025, we asked eight designers to discuss a single prop or piece of scenery from their work and its role in the world of the film. This feature was produced by Javier Irazuzta.
The Lost Daughter (Maggie Gyllenhaal, 2021).
One of the main characters in The Lost Daughter is a plastic doll. Her disappearance, perhaps more accurately described as a kidnapping, introduces a dark turn in the plot, shattering the idyll of a beach vacation. The doll conjures painful motherhood memories, long-suppressed by the film’s protagonist (Olivia Colman).
A prop of such importance is usually custom-fabricated. It must be unique, but also hearty enough to withstand a film shoot. The script called for the doll to be submerged in water, smeared with sunscreen, and defaced with markers. In a pivotal scene, the doll pukes dirty liquid. In another, an earthworm wriggles out of her mouth.
We hired a local propmaker to create multiples of the “hero” doll. For reference, we auditioned over 40 off-the-shelf models. One day, scouting an island home, director Maggie Gyllenhaal and I came across the perfect doll. She stared at us from a living room couch, and we were smitten. We photographed, videotaped, and measured her, sending detailed instructions to the propmaker.
The Lost Daughter (Maggie Gyllenhaal, 2021).
Stranded on a Greek island during the height of the COVID pandemic, I wasn’t able to personally supervise the doll-making process. A few days before principal photography, I received a final report. I’ll never forget the moment. The custom-fabricated doll was dreadful, clearly not usable. After breaking the news to Maggie, we had to quickly recover and rethink. What about the perfect doll we had used as a reference? Could she be our savior? Our location manager was immediately dispatched to locate the doll’s family, who had since left the island. He called us from Athens: “The little girl wants an iPad in return”.
So we got our perfect doll, but no multiples. It was a risk rarely taken by an art department: If anything were to happen to our doll, the shoot would have to stop. I’ve never fretted more over a prop in my life. I held the doll between takes, brushed her hair, and dressed her. Some nights I took her home with me. The doll held a spell over all of us. It was a perfectly strange case of life imitating art.
Our doll made it through the shoot, and into film history. Sometimes I think of her, boxed up in some dark storage unit, surrounded by props. I hope she knows what a miracle she is, our little film savior.
Continue reading “The Prop and the Production Designer.”