Mother Mary Review
Visually sumptuous, deeply confusing, and extremely talky, Mother Mary is kind of exactly what you would imagine you’d get from a pop star movie by David Lowery.
Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) is an iconic pop star, who reunites with her estranged best friend and former costume designer Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel). She’s seeking a costume for her comeback performance after a disastrous stage ‘accident’, but having spurned Sam years before, the wounds of the past bubble under the surface and eventually break forth - and in ways neither expects.
Movies about made-up pop stars always seem to struggle under the same weight; they never realistically make you think that this person is a pop star. You watch their every move, noticing how uncomfortable and fake they look on stage. The music is constantly judged, making you force yourself to suspend disbelief because there’s no way these tunes would ever be a hit. It leads to, often, a deeply jarring filmic experience for the audience.
In Mother Mary, David Lowery suffers some of these issues certainly, but manages to circumvent many of them by basing the film almost entirely in an old barn, with the two leads squaring off in an endless battle of wordy monologues, tear soaked faces, and brutalistic dance routines.
When the film is doing this, it is both at its best and its worst. Hathaway and Cole are wondrous in their respective roles, with Cole in particular the standout. The dialogue between them is frequently strong, and visually it is impeccable. And the ways that Lowery infuses some of their recollections, in physical, stage like manifestations, is engrossing.
There’s also the remarkable visuals surrounding the metaphysical story. While it can be at times overtly esoteric, it is also frequently profound, and the design work as well as the gorgeous cinematography help elevate this into a piece that feels immersive and deeply felt.
Unfortunately, all of these choices - and this film very much feels like a ~choice~ - sometimes overshadow any real sense of entertainment or enjoyment. The point it seems to be gesturing at feels remarkably obvious, and lacks urgency. Whereas Ghost Story oozed its grief and pain in a constant, heartwrenching burn, and earned its resolution 10 fold, Mother Mary seems too unnecessary, too removed, and ultimately too perfunctory, to really grab you. It’s a beautiful film, at times a maddening one, but as it twists itself around to reach its conclusion, you’ll find yourself wondering if it was worth it.
