After a lengthy career spanning three decades and over thirty movies, Al Adamson’s final film proved to be 1983’s Lost. Like the one that came before it, Carnival Magic, it’s made for children, but it’s sorely lacking the weirdness that made that picture memorable. It’s much closer to an After School Special than anything you’d normally associate with the guy who gave us Dracula vs. Frankenstein and Satan’s Sadists.
Ostensibly a comeback vehicle for ‘50s dream girl Sandra Dee, Lost tells the story of a little girl named Buddy (this is the second Adamson film in a row in which the lead girl is called “Buddy”), played by Sheila Newhouse, who is unhappy to be stuck in the middle of Utah with her mom (Dee) and new stepfather (Don Stewart, also the star of Carnival Magic). Unable to find common ground with her and her stepfather, Buddy becomes increasingly rebellious. When her pet donkey has to be put down, the distraught Buddy takes off into the wilderness with her pet dog, Skipper, and it doesn’t take long before they become… well… read the title.
Lost isn’t the worst picture in the Adamson filmography. It’s just his least essential. (You could possibly make a case for dullest, but I think that goes to Five Bloody Graves.) The usual oddball touches that his fans love are nowhere to be found here as the whole thing looks like a '70s Made for TV Movie. Technically, it’s much shoddier than Carnival Magic. The cutting between day and night and sun and rain is often laughable. Still, at least there’s only one plotline to follow and no annoying subplots to bog things down.
As someone who has sat through all his films, it is fun seeing Adamson ripping off the latest trend. In this case, it’s the resurgence of dog-related kids’ movies like Benji. Lost also gets some mileage out of the supporting cast filled with familiar faces from television and westerns. Gunsmoke’s Ken Curtis gets a fine monologue about the spirituality of farming that probably ranks as the single best acted scene in Adamson’s entire career. Jack Elam on the other hand, will grate on your nerves as the old timer mountain man who helps Buddy on her quest.
Overall, Lost just ain’t my cup of tea. It’s just hard to work up much enthusiasm over what is essentially a Benji rip-off, especially after sitting through two months chockfull of wild women, bloody brains, naughty nurses, and sexy stewardesses. I wish Adamson’s career had ended on a higher note, but at least it’s not as out-and-out terrible as something like Five Bloody Graves or Blood of Ghastly Horror.