‘Mother!’ Review: I Don’t Know What the F*@&% That Was

Darren Aronofsky makes the types of films that I can always walk out of being dazzled by the artistry and singular filmmaking technique, while also being emotionally and/or psychologically devastated enough to know that I never have to watch any of his films all the way through ever again. He’s one of those directors who seems to relish putting his audiences through the ringer, from the punishing journey to heroin addiction in Requiem for a Dream, to the overwhelming loneliness of an aging, sickly wrestler in The Wrestler, to the obsessive anxieties of a perfectionist prima ballerina in Black Swan, all of these films leave you disturbed, breathless, panicked, or a term that one of my college film teachers used to use: “feeling bruised and soiled.” Well, Mother! is probably bound to leave you feeling all of the above, but also completely perplexed and confounded, as well. That’s because the film isn’t straight forward at all about its intentions to where it’s about to take the viewer – at least not in the beginning. What starts as a spookily quiet yet pensive psychological drama eventually crescendoes to absolute mayhem, with mysterious symbolism laced throughout leaving the viewer to figure it all out. And I’m not sure I have.

Having said that, I’m not sure it’s the type of film that’s meant to be figured out. I saw Mother! at a screening that had a Q&A with Darren Aronofsky afterwards, and he actually seemed determined to not define the film for the audience. While he admitted that there was a definite intent with the film, it appeared that he preferred to hear what others had thought the film was about. Which is good because the themes can be interpreted in a million different ways. I left the theater thinking it was definitely about a certain thing, but since then, I’ve had a couple of conversations with others about the film and been given completely different theories that somehow still align with mine. And that’s kind of the magic trick that Aronofsky has pulled off here: while Mother! can be interpreted to be about very different things, all of them make complete sense on their own. Whether or not people will like the journey to come to these conclusions is a different matter altogether.

It’s damn near impossible to describe what the “plot,” but in short, Jennifer Lawrence plays the title character, who is the young wife of a famous poet (Him, played by Javier Bardem), and they both live in secluded house in the middle of nowhere, which makes it the perfect setting for things to go to shit. Mother has decided to devote all of her time to renovating their home, while Him is suffering from writers block which seems to be having an affect on their marriage. (And yes, that sentence sounds weird, but is totally grammatically correct). Lawrence’s character is dutiful, quiet, nurturing, and mild-mannered – almost to the point where she’s not that interesting of a character at the start, and a little difficult to care about. Bardem appears to be a loving husband, but his incessant desire to keep the doors of their house open to wandering strangers (who happen to also be fans) is what begins to sow the chaos that slowly builds throughout the film. And when I say slowly, I mean slowly. The arrival of Michelle Pfeiffer (Woman) and Ed Harris (Man) – yep, those are the character names – definitely adds a splash of much-needed intrigue, but even after their appearance, the film’s main quality is instilling a sense of extreme anxiety in anyone who hates having people in their personal space who can’t follow some simple house rules. All Lawrence’s character is trying to do is make a beautiful home, and these ASSHOLES come in and invade her space and don’t pay attention to the very reasonable guidelines that Lawrence was trying to gently enforce. For what it’s worth, I’m not a natural host in the slightest, so seeing people creep into someone else’s very carefully curated personal space gave me an intense feeling of agita. The fact that the camera stays glued to Lawrence for the duration of the film – no matter how mundane the activity – ties us close to her emotional state at every moment, especially those where she feels like she’s losing control of her home to unannounced invaders.

Mother! tried my patience for about the first two-thirds of the film. There are certainly some common horror tropes employed in even the slowest moments, but what’s the meaning of it all? Unlike most horror films, there isn’t a clear target towards whom we can direct our terror. You could describe the villain as being faceless or having many faces; both would be true. But where I believe the film succeeds anywhere is in its final act, where a quiet home descends into absolute, batshit crazy, violent, chaotic madness. The way that the tension builds to get us to this point is really impressive, and by the time we’re there, we’re consumed by the same panic that Lawrence’s character is feeling, especially since we’re totally in the dark about what the ever-loving fuck is going on. The not knowing adds to the anxiety, but I’m not necessarily a fan of anxiety for anxiety’s sake, so I’m not sure how I feel about the final product.

The end of the film attempts to give some semblance of an answer to what we just saw, but after some serious wheel-turning, I walked out with a pretty clearly defined idea of what I thought the point of the film was. So here goes nothing: I thought Mother! was about how fame is an overwhelming force that rots and consumes all that live within the fame bubble, and how those that idolize often lose their identity inside of those that they worship. And apparently, that answer isn’t necessarily “wrong.” However, I’ve heard other theories floated that totally make sense, even more sense than mine in light of the fact that I’ve looked at the character names on IMDB (Mother, Him, Man, Woman, Cupbearer, etc…). Those name should speak for themselves (read: BIBLE), and while that may be the more mainstream interpretation, as I said before, Aronofsky seems more interested in the conversation the film provokes than viewers “getting it.” As a matter of fact, “getting it” is entirely up to you. Because it could lend itself to a million different meanings, and all of them would be totally justified.

While I’m still on-the-fence about how I ultimately feel about the film, one thing is certain: Jennifer Lawrence, Javier Bardem, Michelle Pfeiffer, Ed Harris, and all other players in the film are fantastic. For what they’re given to do, they play the hell out of it. Especially Lawrence, seeing as how we are inextricably attached to her for 97% of the movie. I can’t imagine how taxing it must have been for her to have a camera in her face for the entire shoot, but she capably handles her role despite it. Bardem does an equally commendable job, even though he didn’t have the burden of having a boom and camera guy up in his grill for the duration of filming. And Michelle Pfeiffer and Ed Harris are great – as usual – even though they’re tasked with being generally intolerable human beings.

So, what’s the verdict? I don’t know. While I feel like I need to do a rewatch to fully appreciate it, I don’t know if I can. There were times where I was begging the camera to pull back because its proximity to Jennifer Lawrence was too claustrophobic, too intense; there is some imagery in the film that was incredibly difficult to take. I can endure a good amount of tough imagery during a film, and there were certain images during the last act that necessitated turning away. The first half to two-thirds of the film left me bewildered and wondering what the point was, but because Aronofsky can be such a compelling filmmaker, I always stayed interested to see what happened next. I was terribly annoyed throughout, but I think that was the intent. So does that make for an enjoyable movie-going experience?

I will be up front by saying I don’t know the answers to any of these questions. The only thing I can say is that if you like Darren Aronofsky, you should see it. You’ll be used to the uneasy feelings and the anxiety that his films tend to provoke. If you’re the type of person who is used to a discernable three-act storytelling structure, you may hate it. If you don’t like ambiguity, you’ll hate it. If you don’t like digging for meaning in your films – and I mean really digging – you may hate it. I’m honestly still not sure how I feel about the film, but what I do know is that it’s refreshing to see something wholly original, and to see the possibilities of what film can be. Mother! wasn’t entirely successful for me, but I admire the ambition behind it. It definitely is a conversation-starter, and if you want a film that will make for great dinner conversation with friends afterwards, it will certainly provide that. I didn’t hate it, but I definitely didnt’ love it either. What it did do was make me talk and make me think, which is something that is sorely missing in a cinematic universe overwhelmed with blockbuster superhero fare. And whether I love the film or not, I’m glad that we have people like Aronofsky to keep us on our toes.