Directed By David Lowery

Starring – Anne Hathaway, Michaela Coel, Hunter Schafer

The Plot – Long-buried wounds rise to the surface when iconic pop star Mother Mary (Hathaway) reunites with her estranged best friend and former costume designer, Sam Anselm (Coel), on the eve of her comeback performance.

Rated R for some violent content and some adult language

Mother Mary | Official Trailer HD | A24

POSITIVES

In a year already packed to the brim with elaborately complex love stories, the single most captivating among them might very well belong to one between an emotionally and physically drained popstar and her resentful seamstress, the once unbreakable bond of which has cracked with the tedium of fame, leveling the audience with a surrealistically stimulating psychodrama sensorial experience that challenges artistic collaboration in the confines of co-dependency. The man responsible for crafting such a compelling confrontation is David Lowery, who between lighthearted Disney adaptations and subversively profound psychological dramas, returns for a multitude of character studies that not only vividly fleshes out the richly layered historical subtext of these characters with nuanced emotionality, without the need to relive the traumatic moments that ultimately come to bind them, but also enacts a Gothically distinct brand of horror that inspires expressionistic impulses towards the movie’s hypnotically transfixing imagery, requiring a bit more on the interpretive objective than most pictures pertaining to love and ensuing disconnect, but never the kind that I struggled at coherently piecing together in the thematic bigger picture of what Lowery was shaping for his audience. What undeniably works about the film’s execution is its scintillating style within technical components that seamlessly duplicates the magnitude and frenzied fever dream of pop music stardom, particularly the boldly elegant wardrobe choices of free-flowing gowns designed by Bina Daigeler, the esoteric surrealistic cinematography of Andrew Droz Palermo and Rina Yang’s sensational spectacle, and Lowery’s own unique brand of intrusive editing techniques, which pave a crossroads between psychology and reality, in ways that offer a reflective portal for Mary and Sam to convey an isolated pursuit of their own agonized feelings towards one another. While Lowery doesn’t put all of the thematic meaning in sensationalized imagery and supernatural abilities of characters that transpire an elevated magnitude to the intended destination of the assembled pieces of what’s transpiring, it does help craft a mesmerizing radiance for ominous atmosphere that always feels like the key intended to unlock the movie’s horror-oriented second half, even when the best parts of the movie persist within the claustrophobic conflict of Mary and Sam attempting to sift through twenty-five years of past that were sacrificed in one night of irrationality, where we the audience can piece together enough of what vocally has been discussed, even with the devilish details being so periodically scattered throughout intuitive responses between these characters. It’s fascinating enough that Lowery condenses this film’s first half within the claustrophobic chamber piece confines of this single room setting, with these ladies forced to come to terms with own unique observations of what went wrong, but it’s much more meaningful in the time and creative energies that was spent by Lowery crafting such personally elaborate dialogue of the most insightfully enveloping emotionality, where every passive-aggressive sentiment from Sam was matched seamlessly by these regretfully remorseful fits of desperation from Mary, with interactions so reveled in tenderness and transparency that speaks volumes about the dependency of their once unbreakable dynamic, even with the ice-breaking tension of their initial reunited moments obscured by situational small-talk that tiptoed frantically around the proverbial 500 pound elephant in the room. When they finally do approach honestly with one another, we’re not only treated to impeccably balanced chemistry between Hathaway and Coel, with the latter so thoroughly knowledgeable on the psychology of the former, to the point of knowing the meaning of her actions long before she’s had a chance to candidly express them, but also this physical sensuality between them that doesn’t require sexuality to shape their tender connection with one another, instead opting to expand upon the consistency of their demeanors, which grows all the more relaxed and reliable with each passing moment. Lowery’s assistance illustrating these characters certainly provides them with the kind of lived-in depth that inspires humanity to such powerfully prominent roles, but it’s Anne Hathaway and Michaela Coel who do the entirety of the movie’s heavy lifting, without anything in the way of momentary hesitation to take away from commanding presence that each of them effortlessly elicit. Coel balances a perfect blend of biting bitterness and vulnerability that finds Sam more emotionally attached to Mary than she ever wanted or expected, and considering Coel’s evidential anger being one that transitions to disappointment, on account of their growing honesty with one another, allows her the ability to weave in and out of the tonal shifts of this dynamic with ease, featuring some of the most charismatic dry deliveries that I’ve ever seen. As for Hathaway in the titular role, it’s a two-hander kind of performance that sees her effectively mustering a duality in psychology between the confidently dominant demeanor of her on-stage popstar persona, with the meek desperation of her off-stage humility, with a seemingly limitless ocean of tears to unload at her command, and considering Hathaway gets to utilize some of the same singing that made her a rockstar on Broadway, her casting in this role feels like a no-brainer, offering some of her best dramatic work over the last decade of her career.

NEGATIVES

Lowery’s commitment to craft has certainly surmised another thought-provoking and provocative experience, similar to his work on The Green Knight and A Ghost Story, but there’s periodic conflicts with the execution of Mother Mary’s second half that detracted a bit on my expectations on its intended destination, particularly its enabling of supernatural components during the third act, which eviscerate more of the underlining emotionality than I would’ve preferred with such a meaningful final sentiment. While I wholeheartedly understand the meaningful merit of the intention, particularly in what this red lady represents in the traumatic bond between Mary and Sam, it’s never quite as effective or entertaining as when the movie enacts an isolated dynamic between the two leading ladies weaponizing the dialogue between them, and considering the horror itself feels so underutilized during the closing moments, despite a journey that continuously felt like it was building towards an exclamation point of a finish, it neatly tidies expectations in ways that underline the unfulfilling emphasis of its resolution, in turn leaving me wishing that the film didn’t adopt a metaphorical approach to its metaphysical trauma, instead remaining reliant upon the performances that reveled in the vulnerabilities of their characters’ designs. Likewise, while the soundtrack involves a collaboration of decorated artists, involving Jack Atonoff, Charli XCX, and FKA Twigs, assembling on five brand new songs for Mary’s catalogue, they’re implemented in these sporadically spare instances that doesn’t afford us the necessary time to properly indulge in them, a fact made all the more apparently obvious in Lowery transitioning to music performances suddenly throughout the film. What little I did hear of them certainly sounded like they did a great job of garnering a uniqueness for artistry that made them feel especially unique for Mary’s electronic sound, and considering the trio spent ample time composing these tracks especially for the movie, it feels pointless to condense them in ways that take away from the spectacle of what this production conjured, perhaps as nothing more than a ploy to sell more downloads. Finally, for a film that occasionally revels in the supernatural, there’s a complete lack of palpable suspense and tension that draws from so many moments of vulnerable uncertainty for these characters, especially once the scintillating score from the great Daniel Hart enthuses these scenes with some much-needed urgency to pick up the lackadaisical pacing. The problem transpires from the horror elements feeling so undercooked in the grand scheme of things, striking a semblance of something closer to The Craft rather than any of the most climactic moments of The Green Knight or A Ghost Story, and with so much pertaining to pop stardom virtually unlocking a nightmare underworld of obsession and idolizing, it feels like a missed opportunity that they didn’t flesh out more of the circumstances that led to Mary’s exhaustion, especially considering its storytelling, for better or worse, is so one-dimensional for roughly the entirety of the opening hour.

OVERALL
Mother Mary is an intimately bewitching spell of a psychodrama that abstractly dissects the psychological toll of celebrity, by way of a complex and often traumatic relationship between two people who know each other best. While the movie’s emotional underlining falls a bit flat, on account of its metaphorical meandering, the spellbindingly hypnotic spectacle and devilishly delightful dynamic showcase David Lowery at his most cunningly cerebral, an experience made must-see by the inspirational work of Anne Hathaway and Michaela Coel appraising worship-worthy performances that command the stage every bit as much as the screen.

My Grade: 7.0 or B-