– By Cate Marquis –
Anne Hathaway plays a Madonna-like mega-pop star called Mother Mary, who is at a turning point with her career, and turns to her long-estranged friend, Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel), the costume designer who gave the star the signature look that helped launch her career. Sam, now a top fashion designer, has not heard from Mother Mary for ten years, not since the star ended their professsional and personal partnership during Mother Mary’s rise to the top. Now Mother Mary is seeking a comeback, after a disastrous accident, and she returns to Sam, begging her to design a new dress for her. On the surface, at least, that is what is going on in writer/director David Lowery’s visually lush but mysterious drama.
Writer/director David Lowery, whose previous films include the mysterious GREEN KNIGHT, weaves similar dreamlike material here for MOTHER MARY. Beneath the surface of two people, who started their careers together but parted on bad terms, are many questions – about their personal relationship, forgiveness and betrayal, limits of friendship, maybe even about life and death. And, perhaps, about whether what we are seeing is real or imagined.
MOTHER MARY is filled with gorgeous imagery, a joy to look at and a dream-like drama, but it is also a film that asks a lot of its audience, while tantalizing rewards for those who stick with it. What it does deliver upfront are spectacular acting performances, from Anne Hathaway certainly but particularly from Michaela Coel, who is a complete “wow” and a revelation as Sam Anselm.
It actually helps to know that MOTHER MARY is based on a stage play, because it makes it a bit easier to find a way into its mysterious, talkative film. It is pretty safe to assume that the play likely begins with a scene grounded in the real, with the pop star walking into the fashion designer’s office, a start that gives the story concrete foundation before it veers off into its more surreal territory.
However, the movie starts not with that but with scenes of Anne Hathaway’s Mother Mary (she is always called by both names in the film), as the pop star endures fittings for costumes that are lavish but unwieldy and different but somehow all the same, plus the grind of touring with elaborately staged performances that also are somehow all the samen. Some event is hinted at, with vague images, something on stage that went very wrong, which sends Mother Mary running back to her friend Sam Anselm.
Well, “former friend” would be more apt. Sam Anselm, now a very successful as a fashion designer and head of a design empire of her own, greets Mother Mary politely, but the currents of coldness and irony underneath are palpable. Sam has not heard from the singer in ten years, yet here she is, unannounced, with no prior appointment, something Mother Mary did deliberately so Sam couldn’t dodge seeing her. Unexpectedly, after a tense few moments, Sam suddenly agrees to design a dress for Mother Mary, a decision delivered in a matter-of-fact tone, but we have the sense that there will be a price to pay, and that an apology will be the bare minimum.
Sam whisks the star off to a large, old barn-like structure, where they can work alone, away from the bustle of her busy fashion studio, which is preparing for a big show. In the half-lit old barn, Sam is business-like, and while her assistant Hilda (Hunter Schafer) takes measurements, Sam asks the pop star questions about the dress: Do you need to move in it? What color do you want? Mother Mary replies: anything but red.
The answer is significant, as we eventually learn. After Sam sends away her assistant Hilda, the two really get down to work, professional and personal. Of course, old feelings come out, but strange things happen too.
As good as Anne Hathaway is, and she is very good in this, it is Michaela Coel who it the bolt of lightning in this film. Michaela Coel has a striking, expressive face and makes full use of it, along with her voice, bringing acres of nuance and subtext to every line, often dripping in sarcasm or resentment, as she wrings out every ounce of meaning in the well-written lines. Coel’s face transforms minute by minute, her eyes piercing, as she delivers her lines with surgical precision, while she radiates a powerful presence and palpable charisma from the screen. She is simply hypnotic to watch.
The art direction is lush and expansive, and the film is packed with symbolic scenes, which are lovely, sometimes with dresses or fabric floating through the air, and sometimes with flashbacks exploring the singer’s grueling life on tour, as the pop star wears down from constant work and repetition. The performances are extravaganzas and the costumes are too, but there is a repetition that we see is grinding her down. The film itself is loosely-structured, mysteriously vague, and even nearly amorphous, making it hard to get a handle on, as theses two talk and only drop hints for us about what is really going on, in what was clearly both a professional and personal relationship, although details are elusive.
Clearly, both Mother Mary and Sam know Sam is owed an apology, although that may not be enough. Even though Sam was Mother Mary’s friend and professional partner, she replaced her without notice or seeming feeling. Sam not only survived but the abrupt break allowed her to launch her own very successful fashion design career, perhaps even eclipsing her pop-star former friend at this point. Still, the pain remains.
Sam agrees to design the dress but repairing the relationship is another matter. As she and Mother Mary set about that work, Hathaway’s character clearly longs to re-establish their long-severed connection, even seeming to want to pretend there was no break.
The dialog is sparkling, and the air crackles with anger and other long-buried emotion. As they talk, we get glimpses of Mother Mary’s world of relentless tours and physical stress, all presented in beautifully symbolic images. As the film progresses, we learn more about their shared past but little is clear about what is really going on in the present.
There is a tagline for the film, that says it is not a romance and it is not a ghost story, which means you can’t help but wonder about both those things. Sam talks about how she once loved Mother Mary and now Mother Mary seems desperate to regain the connection, which appears must be through Sam’s work, her creations. But the two seem divided by a wall. Is it only the pain of the past, or is it something larger, more profound?
MOTHER MARY, for all its visually beauty and powerful performances, gives away little, only a few brief hints, meaning it asks a lot of the audience. Not all will be willing to give what it asks, and for some, the opaqueness may just be tiresome, especially with a long running time. If you saw the play, you may have an edge here, but a film is supposed to be able to stand on its own. Still, I’m curious enough to want a second look at the film, and I wonder what my reaction will be to that second viewing. Audiences will have to judge for themselves, but MOTHER MARY does deliver striking, sterling performances from both Anne Hathaway and Michaela Cole which delight as they mystify, and Coel is a lightning-strike of a revelation, and a performer I hope we will see again soon.
MOTHER MARY opens in theaters on Friday, Apr. 24, 2026.
RATING: 3 out of 4 stars
