David Lowery's latest psychological horror film, Mother Mary, is a captivating yet enigmatic exploration of celebrity, self-reinvention, and the haunting presence of the past. The movie centers around Anne Hathaway's portrayal of Mother Mary, a pop star who hasn't performed in years after a traumatic accident during her world tour. Hathaway's character is a fascinating study in contrast, exuding an icy, regal aura despite her maternal stage name. The film's central figure, Mother Mary, is a billowing bolt of crimson fabric that haunts both the main characters, serving as a warning, a temptation, and a reminder of their shared history. The movie's narrative is a complex interplay of personal struggles, artistic ambition, and the lingering impact of past trauma. Lowery's inspiration for Mother Mary stems from Taylor Swift's documentary, the Reputation tour, which he watched extensively during the film's preparation. However, the character's aura of chilly remove is a stark contrast to Swift's onstage warmth and self-deprecation, raising intriguing questions about the nature of celebrity and the personal cost of fame. Hathaway's performance as Mother Mary is a tour de force, showcasing her technical prowess in singing and dancing, yet her character lacks the personal charisma that connects her to her audience. The concert scenes, featuring original songs by Jack Antonoff, Charli XCX, and FKA Twigs, are plausible but unmemorable, contributing to the overall enigmatic nature of Mother Mary's appeal. The film's use of dreamlike flashbacks to Mother Mary's past stardom adds a layer of loneliness and isolation to her character, emphasizing the intense loneliness of a life lived at the scale of fame. However, the film's narrative structure, with its lopsided focus on Mother Mary's past and present, leaves the would-be two-hander feeling unbalanced. The character of Sam, played by Michaela Coel, is a cipher about whose motivations we learn almost nothing, leaving the audience with a sense of incompleteness. The recurring presence of the red ghost, a diaphanous bolt of fabric, is a central mystery that Lowery resists assigning a fixed meaning to, which can be frustrating for viewers seeking clear explanations. The film's ending, while painful and literal, feels somewhat risible, and the overall narrative leaves room for interpretation and speculation. Despite its enigmatic nature, Mother Mary is a triumph of design, blending textile and gaseous cloud aesthetics, and exuding both seduction and sinister qualities. Lowery's deep respect for art and artists is evident in the film's sincerity, particularly in a stunning early sequence where Mother Mary shows Sam the choreography for a solo dance, emphasizing the connection between two artists who need each other to do their best and deepest work. The film's exploration of celebrity self-styling, while solemn, is a testament to Lowery's artistic vision and ambition, making Mother Mary a thought-provoking and engaging cinematic experience.
