Mother Mary: David Lowery Takes on Metaphysics, Women, Stardom and the Supernatural

By Karen Gordon

Rating: A-

There’s a lot going on in writer/director David Lowery’s latest, the intellectually ambitious, layered genre mash-up Mother Mary, a film that thematically runs the gamut from the secular to the mystical.

Perhaps that mix is not surprising considering how the esoteric is a theme that Lowery has explored repeatedly in films like A Ghost Story (2017) and The Green Knight (2021). He seems fascinated by Jungian psychology, and by questions beyond simply contemplating mortality. 

Mother Mary, as the title suggests, delves deeply into women: the historical legacy that forms women's roles in the world, as well as  archetypes and, most importantly, the Divine Feminine, which Mary symbolizes in more than just the Christian faith.   

Anne Hathaway is the Madonna-esque Mother Mary.

Still, this isn't a film that goes off into the ether.  For much of its running time, Mother Mary plays out in the real world.  Lowery uses the familiar cultural territory of pop music, and fashion  to ground the film, before  it moves from drama to the occult to make its points.  

Anne Hathaway is Mother Mary, a Madonna-esque pop music icon (practically referenced in the name) who is at a turning point.  She’s days away from an upcoming major concert and her usual collaborators haven’t been able to come up with a costume for it that feels right for her finale. It’s a moment in her show, in her career and her life where ultimate authenticity matters to her.  

So much so that she’s taken a leap and is turning to a former collaborator. 

Mary arrives unannounced at the country estate and workshop of Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel), a superstar in the fashion world. She’s insanely busy, as we can see. It’s all hands on deck as she’s preparing to show a new collection.

There are reasons Mary hasn’t made an advance appointment. 

Turns out, the two formidable women had been collaborators at the start of Mary’s career, but a decade earlier had a seismic rupture and haven’t spoken since.  They've both gone on to great success, top of their field, but whatever ripped them apart put up an almost impenetrable wall. 

Mary shows up with genuine vulnerability and humility. She has come back to Sam for something important, but which has to be designed and realized in days. She may be vulnerable, but she’s also strong and unshakeable in her intent.    

Sam is not happy to see her. She’s angry. Cold. Blunt. Not willing to cover up the damage and the hurt. 

With her own show looming she doesn’t have the time, but she agrees with the caveat that Mary wears whatever she creates. Mary has one caveat, the costume cannot have the colour red in it. They agree. 

From there they go into Sam’s private workshop in a repurposed Medieval-era barn, itself a bit of a character that brings meaning to the film.  

Sam doesn’t cut corners when it comes to expressing her anger, but Mary doesn’t flinch or apologize. These are formidable, intelligent women who have poured their lives into their respective art forms.

For a long time the film plays out as a two-hander, with the pacing and language of a stage play as the women go back and forth, talking about the costume, collaboration, then and now. They talk of the symbolism that goes into creating this costume, and more pointedly the rift in their relationship, who they were, how it ended, what is left. 

As the film goes along, other, more subtle themes emerge, about fame. About stardom. About being a woman, and the inheritance of centuries of women who came before.  Their dialogue is interesting and the performances by Hathaway and Coel so superb and strong that Lowery could have left it at that.  It’s fascinating to watch these two actresses, whose styles are so different work together.  

But Lowery is after more, and he shifts the film into the supernatural in a kind of ‘70s horror movie way. 

For Sam, it’s the appearance of a ghost, showing up like a large piece of red silky fabric that shows itself to her and then floats out of the window.  For Mary, her encounter with the same ghost, four years later, comes at a séance in Dublin, where the medium (FKA twigs) is briefly possessed by a spirit talking to Mary from the point of view of someone or something that defies time and space.

So, who are these two women? Are they friends? Soul mates?  Twin Flames? Or are they just metaphors for being authentic in a world that projects what it wants onto you? 

Is this about forgiveness as a pathway to love? 

Lowery doesn’t sew it up for us in a neat package or give us the answers, but I have no doubt that anyone who resonates with the film will come away with thoughts of their own.

Mother Mary. Written and directed by David Lowery. Starring Anne Hathaway, Michaela Coel, FKA Twigs. In theatres April 24.