[Téchiné's The Girl on the Train,] which is masterfully directed and gratifyingly complex, runs out of gas right when it ought to be revving up, stranding two great actors in a scenario that crosses the line from ambiguous into inconclusive. Téchiné's new film, In The Name Of My Daughter, suffers from exactly the same problem—which is immensely frustrating, because it's likewise terrific right up until it's forced to address what actually happened (or, in this case, what didn't happen).