Lost City of Z's strongest assets are its patience, and its scope. Not content to lure us into the jungle for one grand adventure, the film keeps pulling us back--denying us the satisfaction of discovery so as to place us squarely in the shoes of Charlie Hunnam's (who turns in a surprisingly good performance) Fawcett, forced to return on multiple expeditions and the personal stakes grow each time. Eventually the physical space between the jungle and Fawcett'a home country break down and shots of the jungle are occasionally merged with the beautifully realized set dressings of 20th century Britain. The visual language of desire is a stronger, more elegant, vehicle for the film's themes than its script, which often stumbles over itself when characters continuously remind us just what it is that's motivating Fawcett. His wife is also wasted in a role that seems to try and break through gender roles through her wants and desires, but it is shirked off screen far too long for her to feel like the fillmakers lived up to the aspirations they had set for her character, instead spending most of its interest on a cabal of old British men when Fawcett is home (although perhaps that's the point, that at such a time the rigidity of gender roles in society was not something that could be overcome no matter how equitable a marriage may seem).
Despite some of its failures when the film gets too talky, it never loses sight of its ability to make the jungle portions of the film quite exceptional. The murky filters on the lenses turn everything to a greenish blue haze, and each venture is fraught with peril and wonder. It is through these expiditions that Fawcett's character is most clearly and smartly defined, as you see who he is and who he has become by what or who he is willing to risk with every venture. The film's ending is uncertain and uneasy, a feeling that perfectly captures what pulls Fawcett, and us, through the jungle.
