Stage Mother is one of a small handful of films welcoming audiences back as cinemas across the country begin to reopen after months of closure. A colourful comedy-drama set predominantly in a drag bar, does Stage Mother have what it takes to dazzle audiences returning to the cineplex?
When her estranged son dies of a drug overdose, his conservative church choir mother inherits his San Francisco-based drag club and attempts to revive it in the hope of honouring his legacy. Starring Jacki Weaver, Lucy Liu and Adriana Grenier, director Thom Fitzgerald casts his latest in a mould reminiscent of The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar.
Often, films are measured by their creativity and how well they reinvent the wheel; if you were judging Stage Mother on that basis alone, you may find yourself disappointed. A very straightforward, often paint-by-numbers plot told through a screenplay assembled with contrivances and rather obvious character arcs, Brad Hennig's script will win no awards for boundary-pushing. But, as the changing world has taught us, we often seek safety in familiarity and as an easy-watching, feelgood slice of escapism, Stage Mother could not come more highly recommended.
A heartwarming story of love, acceptance and community, Stage Mother is almost impossible to resist. Presenting a touching mother-son relationship that finds real emotion in showing those you love how much they mean to you when you can, sincerity permeates through Thom Fitzgerald's direction and general approach to the film. While the themes it touches on regarding the challenges faced by the LGBTQ+ community is handled in a very mainstream, accessible way that could have been mined for a more interesting depiction, they are explored with enough sensitivity to leave their mark on a well-worn story. Very early on, you find yourself invested in these characters, an endearing assortment of colourful individuals who have found themselves as outsiders trying to carve out their spaces in the world and secure a legacy; again, their arcs aren't particularly inspired but it never detracts from the earnestness with which they are presented, brought to life by a wonderful ensemble.
A commanding and delightful lead performance from Jackie Weaver carries the film, the charm of her fish-out-of-water approach allowing us to explore both the sacrifices she has made to get here and the regrets she has about not doing it sooner. Although she never shares the screen with her son (played by Eldon Thiele) and flashbacks are the only method to peer into their relationship firsthand, you wholeheartedly believe their connection, understanding the nuances of their rocky relationship through the way Weaver emotionally reflects. Ending with a musical moment that should melt the coldest of hearts, the film operates as a tribute to the mother-son bond that endures even in hardship.
Even grappling with some clunky dialogue at times, the supporting cast all make the most of their characters. Liu delivers a feisty performance, well-matched opposite Weaver, while Mya Taylor's performance provides the film with a touching perspective that enriches the film's discussion on community and acceptance. All the cast members are capable of delivering the humour, which flows impressively steady throughout, as well as the more dramatic beats too.
As someone who stepped back into the cineplex for the first time in five months fraught with anxiety for the experience, I cannot think of a perfect film to welcome me back and soothe my worries: like a warm bowl of soup in the middle of winter, there's something so comforting about a film with so many familiar ingredients, hitting expected yet well-executed emotional beats and imbuing such warmth into fairly standard material. Stage Mother breaks no new ground but must every film try to? It is far from perfect but it's difficult to imagine a more big-hearted, crowd-pleasing and enjoyable picture for these times.
Summary: What Stage Mother lacks in originality it makes up for in its big-hearted, crowd-pleasing cinema escapism that welcomed me back to the cinema for the first time in almost five months with open arms.