The Lost Locket Christian Review
The Lost Locket… This is not the kind of film you forget after watching. Yes, it’s a love story, but not just that. Within the first 10 minutes, you can feel it—this isn’t some typical “boy meets girl, a bit of drama, climax, and done” storyline. There’s something deeper. Something unexpected.
There’s a modern-day African American writer, and he finds an old locket in his hand. At first glance, it seems like just an antique. But gradually, you realize this locket is linked to two timelines. On one side, a white soldier from 1944. On the other, a present-day white Civil Rights lawyer. It sounds unusual, but that’s where the beauty lies.
That’s where the story begins. Yes, there’s romance. But more than that, it’s about time. About race. About wounds that were never truly healed.
This film isn’t light or sugarcoated. Sometimes, it’s hard to watch. Because it brings up the things people tend to avoid—taboo love, generational trauma, and the uncomfortable realities around race.
And it doesn’t scream for your attention. No dramatic music. No theatrical monologues. It just… rises up, quietly, like an old memory tucked away in the back of your mind. And once it surfaces, you can’t unsee it.
If you view it through a Christian lens, it becomes even more layered. It speaks of grace. Of healing. Of redemption. As if that broken, painful past still has a shot at something new. That maybe love—true, honest love—can still exist. No matter how many walls history built, maybe those walls can fall.
Galatians 3:28 comes to mind—“Everyone is the same.” It’s as if the film is whispering that real love has no race. No era. It’s just… a soul. An essence. And that’s what stays.
But don’t expect a fairytale. This film isn’t here to comfort. It’s here to reflect. Sometimes it draws itself out of you. Sometimes it shows you to yourself. The faces, the voices, the lines—they’re so subtle, it feels like you missed something. But when you sit with it later, it hits you—that quietness was on purpose. Because it’s not about what was said. It’s about why.
And if you struggle with hard truths, brace yourself. When the film looks back—at slavery, racism, silence—all those things buried neatly beneath the surface of American memory—it can feel heavy.
But still… through it all, there’s a strange warmth. A whisper that love is still possible. Not just romantic love. But selfless, spiritual, Christ-like love. The kind of love that doesn’t come with a price tag. That just is.
And whether those relationships are real, or just a beautiful moment in time—the film won’t tell you right away. You’ll have to sit with that question. You’ll have to give it time. Like tasting something slowly to understand its flavor, you’ll need to feel it fully.
So no, The Lost Locket isn’t a casual watch. It’s a mirror. Sometimes for you. Sometimes for history. Sometimes for the thoughts you didn’t know you were carrying. If you’re the kind of viewer who looks beyond the surface, who searches for the soul in stories—then this film is waiting for you.
Watch. Feel. And then think.
