Even though we’re in a sparse period of new releases in movie theaters, that hasn’t stopped mainstream Hollywood from churning out more biopics of iconic figures of the past. The latest of these biopics is Michael, directed by Antoine Fuqua, about the famous singer Michael Jackson. I have not seen this film yet due to my reticence toward biopics in general.
To avoid the potentially overly authorized and overly polished take on the king of pop, I walked in the completely opposite direction inside the megaplex to the film Mother Mary. The effect of "Mother Mary" is one of strange eerie questions. But maybe all the questions I had are the point of this film all along.
Anne Hathaway ("The Idea of You," 2021) plays a fictional world-famous pop star who is desperate to return to her roots. This pop star is named Mother Mary, and the film begins with her arriving unexpectedly at the home of an old friend and costume designer named Sam played by Michaela Cole ("I May Destroy You," 2020). Mary asks Sam to immediately create something new for Mary to wear at an upcoming performance, even though their abrupt reunion is fraught with weary bitterness.
Both women rehash and relive wounds from the past, eventually realizing their intense connection defies time and may end up saving them both. "Mother Mary" is an abstract high-brow commentary on the intimately damaging consequences of fame and the struggles of reconciliation. The engaging dialogue between these two powerful accomplished women is delicately intense and emotionally fraught, sliding between softly-delivered insults and fragile pleas of apology.
Much of the energy between these actresses is undeniably absorbing, because both of them (but especially Michaela Cole) manage to express more than one feeling in just one sentence of their lengthy conversation. But many moments of their long exchange start to feel one-note after the first half of this film.
Plenty of people will not rush to the movie theater for this because Mother Mary is very much an art house film. So I understand this is not for everyone. It’s mysterious, psychological, and imaginative. This artsy vibe, though, should not be a surprise to anyone because of the writer/director David Lowery. His most memorable films are experimental, conceptual, art house films A Ghost Story (2017) and the glorious medieval fairytale "The Green Knight" (2021). Now I promise you I’m not exaggerating, "The Green Knight" is absolutely one of the best films of the decade.
"Mother Mary" is good, but it isn’t as much of a triumph as The Green Knight. The concert scenes of Anne Hathaway performing on stage are grand and sparkling reminiscent of Beyonce, Lady Gaga, and especially Madonna with so much religious iconography. The scene transitions of the women’s memories are theatrical and spooky. This film has a lot going for it.
But leaning a bit too far into the vague artsyness makes this film more visually creative but also more confusing, more monotonous, and less accessible. This balancing act is a difficult one for many art house films. Twisting the boundaries in film storytelling and keeping a film understandable enough that the audience stays interested is a lot of work. There’s good examples ("The Tree of Life," 2011 and "Being John Malkovich," 1999) and bad ones ("I’m Thinking of Ending Things," 2020) of these.
"Mother Mary" falls somewhere between the good and bad examples. This film ultimately asks, "How do you take an emotion or the history of a relationship and make it visible or even tangible?" Those of you who love the exploratory fringes of film away from the mainstream will enjoy the answers that come from this one. Emotional baggage has never looked this beautiful or this haunting.
