As far as fictional pop stars go, Anne Hathaway’s Mother Mary is one of the strongest we have seen - a dazzling, ethereal and fascinating creation whose onstage presence is reflected in the film David Lowery has crafted around her. The film’s marketing eagerly asserted that this “was not a ghost story” and “was not a love story” - what it is is a truly singular vision of the artistry and grief which, for better or for worse, captures a visionaries’ greatest strength - and a couple of his most frustrating tendencies, too.
As she attempts to mount a comeback following an onstage accident, Mother Mary becomes overwhelmed and flees to the safety of her old lover and collaborator, Sam Anselm, although the welcome is far from warm as a complicated history entangled them both. David Lowery approaches Mother Mary with the same ghostly touch as he did with 2017’s A Ghost Story; a visionary unafraid to venture into the supernatural, Lowery’s ambitious project reckons with the haunting themes that cast a spectral shadow over the film he lays before us.
Essentially unfurling as a two-hander between Hathaway’s Mother Mary - or rather, the offstage version of her in the midst of a crisis of persona - and Michaela Coel’s Sam, Mother Mary is a surprisingly insular affair, offering a depiction of two women caught between the personal and professional, trapped by a relationship that is simultaneously toxic, mutually beneficial and undeniably alluring. Lowery’s wonderfully strange and metaphor-driven screenplay is a testing experience, and one that will not be to everybody’s taste — it’s dialogue heavy discussions are almost intangible at times, elusively cool and plays loosely with reality. And yet, there’s something entirely transfixing about its flow and rhythm, which reels you in with a morbid fascination that you cannot help but become invested.
The uneasy atmosphere that hangs over Mother Mary truly enriches the film’s tonal complexities as it sways between genres. Never one to be boxed in or defined by conventions, it is tempered from the get-go with a volatility, enhancing the following journey, which plays like a descent into a person's soul. Cinematographers Andrew Droz Palermo and Rina Yang conjure some of the most striking imagery set to film this year, capturing the large-scale performance set pieces with genuine excitement and wonder, while nailing the intimate moments between the pair, confined mostly to just one setting, which it utilises fantastically through lighting, scope, space and colour. All of this is steered by Lowery's inquisitive sensibilities, provoking questions he is not always equipped to provide answers for.
Charli XCX, Jack Antonoff and FKA Twigs curate a selection of tracks that really certify Mother Mary’s in-film stardom. 'My Mouth Is Lonely For You' is a triumph, and may just be one of the finest pop releases of the year, while the symphonic 'Holy Spirit 2' is another standout, alongside the dark and industrial 'Burial'. Daniel Hart’s original compositions score the film beautifully: a sad, eerie and genuinely quite magnificent contribution that takes the film to such immaculate highs.
Yet another jewel in Anne Hathaway’s crown following a banner year in Hollywood, she delivers a captivating and emotionally-rich performance as Mother Mary. In spite of her success, there's an emptiness to Hathaway's performance that feels thematically in-keeping with the stories of popstars left to face the silence once they leave the stage, with the internal reckoning of self fantastically portrayed by the commited Hathaway. Opposite her, Coel’s work is completely fascinating, ultimately - and knowingly - holding the power over Hathaway’s Mary despite every piece of logic implying otherwise. There’s something rather menacing about the control she possesses, something she yields like the fabric scissors that slice and snip, almost becoming a weapon in their back-and-forth fight for the upper hand. Together, the pair's hypnotic chemistry empowers Mother Mary to thrilling heights.
Even when Mother Mary can drift towards a frustrating languish, feeling like a movie actively searching for its message as it unfolds before our eyes, it is nevertheless a powerful, moving journey to such a destination, one wrought with daring questions on artistic meaning and self reflections. A daring and imaginative piece that dances under a spectral presence we are drawn towards, Lowery's audacious feature has Anne Hathaway, Michaela Coel and its musical contributors to thank for maintaining such an inspiring theatrical experience. It will almost certainly end the year as one of the most divisive features, but those who favour this type of fearless cinema are likely to carry it forward and secure its future as a cult classic in the coming years.