Mother Mary Review: An Intimate, Metaphysical Duo

      The initial sound we hear in Mother Mary is Michaela Coel’s voice. She foresees the arrival of Mother Mary and cautions us that this narrative is cursed. Anyone who has engaged with television over the past ten years would recognize the depth and clarity of her voice. However, on the big screen now, we experience it more powerfully than ever before. Writer-director David Lowery establishes the backdrop for Mother Mary, but it is Coel—portraying the scorned, sharp-tongued fashion designer Sam Anselm—who takes center stage. Coel commands the screen, capturing our full attention; while she has appeared in films previously, Mother Mary feels like her significant debut. Residing on a sprawling, shadowy estate in England, Sam has withdrawn from society. Her only companions are her work, her devoted assistant Hilda (Hunter Schafer), and a fervent spirit that keeps her from succumbing to a sense of boredom. Additionally, Sam is profoundly affected by love, her creativity stemming from deep, lingering heartbreak.

      What could be more dramatic than ending a relationship with a globally renowned pop star? To make matters worse, their breakup remains a secret to the world. Thus, when Mother Mary (Anne Hathaway) shows up at Sam’s home requesting a dress, Sam has every justification to refuse her former lover. Instead, she responds with casual cruelty, unleashing a series of verbal attacks while maintaining a bitter smile. Mother Mary endures her treatment, oscillating between apologetic gestures and intense emotional turmoil.

      There isn't a single male character in the primary cast of Mother Mary. Men can be spotted in the concert audience, but otherwise, they seem nonexistent. Lowery's latest ghost story features only women—including Kaia Gerber, Jessica Brown Findlay, Alba Baptista, Atheena Frizzell, Isaura Barbe-Brown, Sian Clifford, and pop star FKA Twigs. However, at its core, Mother Mary is primarily a dialogue between Coel and Hathaway, depicted with care and closeness. Similar to his previous work, A Ghost Story, Mother Mary expresses emotional disconnection through metaphysical elements. This time, the ghost represents a red string that keeps the two women linked despite a decade of separation.

      Hathaway portrays Mother Mary as a figure of divine sorrow clad in heels, with long, straight hair and various halo-shaped headpieces. With aspects reminiscent of Madonna, Lana Del Rey, and a hint of Mitski, Mother Mary embodies the notion of a pop star before fully developing her character. Nevertheless, her emotional isolation and despondency feel authentic—Hathaway never strikes a false note. Instead, she highlights Mary’s vacuity as a central theme. Mother Mary thrives on stage but is lost off it. She seeks answers from Sam upon returning. Many times, Sam laments that her old friend has always relied on her to carry the burden. Still, Mother Mary has little to offer aside from her voice and presence.

      While never explicitly stated, the queerness of Lowery’s film is clear. Though these two women share a deep love, a happy ending remains elusive. Their reunion is bittersweet, propelled by a need for one another that verges on obsession. Some couples separate because their love has faded. However, it can be even more agonizing when love persists, powerful enough to harm them both if they fully yield to it. The grief that accompanies this knowledge resides within both of them. Ultimately, they must determine how to cope with it.

      Mother Mary premieres in theaters on Friday, April 17.