Mother Mary

The eponymous rock star (Anne Hathaway - or perhaps Margot Robbie or Natalie Portman?) has had some sort of an incident with her erstwhile friend and fashion designer "Sam" (Michaela Coel) and so when she turns up unannounced at her home in the middle of a thunderstorm, she can't be too surprised that the reception she gets is just as wet. She needs a frock. A frock to end all frocks. She needs "Sam" to design it for her, as only she really understands her; knows her; yada yada... Barring a few interventions from her assistant "Hilda" (Hunter Schafer) and some briefly menacing scissor-wielding moments this is essentially a slightly cryptic analysis of their relationship and visually it reminded me of "In Fabric" (2018) at times. It's extremely dialogue heavy and for a good portion of it, it makes you think it could be far more effectively performed on a creatively lit theatrical stage. There's precious little context for us, either, in terms of what drove them apart in the first place or of just what the motivation is for a reconciliation that "Sam" seems entirely indifferent, even hostile, to. Conceptually, it might be about stripping back the layers of superficiality that surround not just this industry, but of life in general? Perhaps a critique of the fickleness of fame and friendships? In any case it doesn't really present these women with anything like enough depth for us to really care, and as we entered the final, more fantastical and perhaps metaphorical phase, I began to lose interest a bit. I find Coel a very natural actor to watch, but Hathaway was interchangeable with half a dozen actors and despite her best attempts with a couple of musical performances I just didn't feel engaged.

A time-honored adage astutely maintains that, in many cases, “less is more” – unless, of course, there’s little to hold someone’s interest in the first place, in which case “more” needs to be supplemented to create something more worthy of appreciation. At the same time, though, whatever is added to the mix needs to be inherently worthwhile to make its inclusion beneficial, because, if it’s not, it doesn’t matter what’s incorporated for improvement. And, sadly, that’s the core issue plaguing this latest dramatic release from writer-director David Lowery. After a protracted absence from performing, pop star Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) is on the verge of making a comeback after an on-stage accident. However, the mesmerizing, immensely popular singer, whose works have a spiritual bent akin to some of Madonna’s biggest hits, is frazzled just days before her long-awaited appearance. She’s particularly upset that her costuming doesn’t reflect the “authentic” look she’s going for, one that’s indicative of her character and fitting for her new material. And so, sheepish and desperate, she calls upon her long-estranged former lover and costume designer, Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel), to create the perfect dress for her performance in a matter of four days. Of course, it’s a lot to expect that they’ll be able to get right down to business given that they haven’t seen one another in a decade and have a number of unresolved issues to address, which they proceed to do in a series of long-winded, incredibly overwritten and pretentious dialogues. And, not unlike the nature of Mother Mary’s compositions, these conversations quickly bring up matters of a spiritual nature. In particular, they revolve around ghostly (or is it ghastly?) issues that both parties have experienced and tie back to the unfinished business between them. They also strangely link to the dressmaking process, leading one to think that this picture might have been more aptly titled “Phantom Thread” (even though that was already taken in director Paul Thomas Anderson’s 2017 release of the same name). Without giving anything away, it’s not too hard to figure out where things go from here, though, rather than address these issues in a straightforward, reasonably plausible manner, the material is presented in a series of overproduced quasi-surreal sequences that tend to muddy the waters more than to clarify them. The result is thus an offering that is innately thin (despite efforts to convince viewers otherwise) and that heavily emphasizes style over substance. There’s no denying that the filmmaker’s visual stylings are indeed impressive for the most part, especially in the performance numbers (though some of the ghost story backdrops are a little too Goth for my taste). Comparable praises can also be sung for the film’s soundtrack, vocals, choreography and set designs, all top notch. And the performances of the two leads are generally solid, despite the often-laughable quality of the material they’ve been handed to work with. In the end, though, these strengths can’t overcome the woefully intrinsic weaknesses of the story and screenplay of this overwrought drama/psychological thriller. In fact, in light of what’s on offer here, I truly believe I would have been more satisfied with a simple concert film instead.