‘Lost Women of Alaska’ series review: A personal, moving tribute with potential for more

The three-part docu-series is a moving show of force, which could have benefited more from narrative clarity

Telling someone else’s story is an inherent act of interpretation, an understanding of what happened to them. When the victim is no longer alive, true crime documentaries bear this massive burden and don’t always honour them. Lost Women of Alaska – a three-part docu-series – revisits the serial killings that have haunted the Alaskan community. The task of retelling is shared by the community members who knew the victims, as well as the investigating authorities. The outcome is a moving show of force, but one that could have benefited more from narrative clarity.

Narrated by Octavia Spencer, Lost Women of Alaska explores what it calls the underbelly of Anchorage where the “vulnerable are exploited by unimaginable evil.” While emphasising the geographical serenity with sweeping shots of the Alaskan landscape, the docuseries contrasts this with the recollection of the serial murders of native women at the hand of Brian Steven Smith. Told by those who knew Kathleen Jo Henry, Veronica Abouchuk, and Cassandra Boskofsky, the docuseries gives shape to the lives of these deceased women, while also piecing together how Smith was eventually caught.

Homelessness gripping the city of Anchorage becomes the thread that links these victims to each other. Vulnerability stemming from poverty and exacerbated by their status as indigenous women, makes Henry, Abouchuk, and Boskofsky targets in a State that has a disproportionately high rate of women going missing. It is women, however, who notice these disappearances, pointing out anomalies and reporting suspicious behaviour that eventually leads to Smith’s capture and conviction.

A still from the docu-series | Photo Credit: discovery+

There are several voices that struggle for space in any documentary, since their prominence ends up shaping its narrative. The decision to cede narrative space to the convicted serial killer may have been an interesting choice a decade ago, but in the time of true crime reels, it comes off as rather unnecessary, and can even quickly veer into insensitivity. So, when Smith (who already has numerous interviews online) takes his seat in orange prison clothes, and faces the camera, it gives him yet another opportunity to platform his justifications and excuses. None of this adds any value to the victims’ stories.

Lost Women of Alaska gets a lot right, but muddles its narrative strokes. There is care and concern in how the community tells the stories of its own members. Yet, there is little time spent on cementing the history of how this native community has become so vulnerable to crime in Alaska specifically. Even less time is spent exploring the lapses in the investigation that allow for such crimes to go on unabated. The docu-series posits Smith’s crime as representing the plight of native Alaskan women. However, not enough depth is provided to the same.