The Mother | Review

Film explores the complex nature of psychology, sexuality and age.

Rarely has old age and sexuality been envisioned in any other format besides the one that sees an older male protagonist having a go at young, hot-blooded bodies of the opposite gender. Yet, once the roles are reversed, the word “taboo” seems to plaster the consciousness. When mother starts making funny drawings then there’s cause for concern.

The Mother tackles not one, not two, but three matters of discussion which don’t regularly get featured in most filmic texts. With this feature, the director behind the fluffy Notting Hill goes into the psychological deep-end but in a moderately dramatic manner. Roger Michell profiles a golden aged widow whose life-affirming moment ultimately leads to a path of self-destruction. Offered up in a tranquilly, anguished character with an air of egoism, British actress Anne Reid steps into her character of May who instead of knitting booties, is getting some booty of her own. May’s harrowing looks into the mirror not only reflect upon the character’s last ditch effort to live it up a little, but displays her newfound loneliness. The first half of the film explores her isolation, which is exemplified by the strained, somewhat unsupportive relationship she has with her adult children. The loyalty she once had for her children is now witnessed by how her son and daughter interact with their own families. This exclusion in a time of need pushes her to muddle into their affairs, where she ends up having an affair of her own. A good twenty years her junior, this sensitive brut played by Daniel Craig (Sylvia) is a character without a slightest sense of principle.

Construed in a camera work that is purposely low in quality and rough around the edges, The Mother is perhaps geared more towards the actor’s performances than the visual aesthetics. But Michell often opts for his characters to border the frame, and shoots in such a manner that prevents anything beautiful to make its way into the film which provides a gloomy overcoat to the filmic text. Under scribe Hanif Kureishi’s pretext, Michell only slightly manages to escape a Something’s Gotta Give mishap, his narrative zones into an examination of the complicated character afflictions in the family units and by placing a double-edged sword Michell’s premise builds a round a calculated display of wrongfulness and debauchery. While his film visits the taboo boundaries, it fails to compress and fully immerse such unmentionable issues into the character’s profiles; instead the needs of alcohol, drugs and the promise for money are the excuse for a relationship not meant to last and an excepted denouement sees a confused soul act in a grotesque manner providing awkward comedic moments rather than tension-filled complex ones. Hence, there is more a direct cause-and-affect result rather than a set of voluntary choices from its characters. Its as if the film shows all the characters bruises, but a deeper examination could have shown how those bruises got there in the first place. Unfortunately, what may hinder the public appreciation of a sometimes moving text and great performance from Reid is that there isn,t much to care for in the characters – all whom are awkwardly presented in this drama.

The Mother is a harsh tragedy which shies away from complicated matters and one that ultimately fails to go beneath the surface, it just prods around, gets its fists and faces dirty and then drifts away with harsh life lesson learned and not much of a statement.

Rating 2 stars