Independent cinema often thrives on urgency, and Mitra Mazumder’s The Lost World 2020 is very much a product of its time. Conceived and completed during the global lockdown, the film reflects not only the stillness of that period but also the anxieties and fractures that surfaced when humanity was forced to stop. Far from being a simple pandemic chronicle, the film uses its setting as a springboard for a broader exploration of ecological destruction, urban alienation, and the fragility of human dignity.

The central figure is an elderly man who becomes separated from his home and wanders through an unforgiving world. Along his path, he encounters five others, each marked by displacement—whether through poverty, homelessness, or abandonment. Their chance meeting gradually forms the core of the narrative. Together they represent fragments of a society in crisis, people living at the edges of prosperity yet carrying its consequences most heavily.
Mazumder’s script places symbolism at the forefront. The riverbank, where much of the story unfolds, functions as more than a backdrop: it is a reminder of the resources that urban ambition exploits and discards. Themes such as climate change, human trafficking, and the erosion of community surface not through direct statement but through allegory and juxtaposition. This lends the film a poetic quality, even when its execution is uneven.

From a technical perspective, the production shows clear limitations. The color correction, camera stability, and acting do not always support the weight of the themes. Yet the director’s ambition is evident, and her ability to tie intimate human experiences with larger social critiques signals a strong narrative instinct. At its best, the imagery of the riverbank and the stark emptiness of abandoned spaces convey an atmosphere that words alone could not achieve.
What distinguishes The Lost World 2020 is not polish but conviction. Despite restricted means, Mazumder has guided the film to an impressive circuit of international festivals, earning more than seventy official selections and thirty-one awards. The recognition indicates that the film’s concerns—displacement, aging, ecological loss—resonate across cultures.

For audiences, the film may not satisfy those seeking conventional storytelling or technical finesse. Instead, it serves as a cinematic essay, one that blends social commentary with surreal allegory. It stands as both a caution and a lament, positioning Mazumder as a filmmaker willing to confront uncomfortable truths.
