Mother Mary Review
Mother Mary isn't the kind of movie everyone will enjoy, and that's exactly what makes it interesting. David Lowery directs it like something deeply personal, artistic, and completely unbothered about pleasing every viewer. Some will find it slow or confusing. Others will fall completely under its spell. It doesn't hand you answers; it asks you to just sit with the feeling. And even when it gets a little messy, there's still something genuinely beautiful about it.
At the centre of it all are two compelling figures, Mother Mary, a world-famous pop star played by Anne Hathaway, and Sam, the designer behind her iconic image, played by Michaela Coel. Years after their relationship fell apart, Mary shows up at Sam's door asking for a dress for a big performance.
But the film makes it clear pretty quickly that this reunion has nothing to do with fashion. It's about old wounds, identity, heartbreak, and the kind of creative bond that's hard to walk away from. Their conversations feel raw and intimate, like two people desperately trying to reconnect while still carrying years of hurt. The chemistry between Hathaway and Coel is electric, and every scene between them feels loaded with something unspoken.
One of the film's strongest themes is identity. Mother Mary isn't just a person anymore; she's become an image, almost like a modern religious icon. Her costumes, her performances, her whole public persona have grown so big that they've swallowed the actual human underneath. And Sam helped build that. But in doing so, she also poured pieces of herself into Mary's image without realising it.
The film doesn't shy away from the harder questions either. Who really owns a public identity when two people built it together? Mary feels trapped inside a version of herself she no longer recognises. Sam, on the other hand, is grieving the loss of the person who gave her creative work its meaning. It's a quiet conflict, but an emotionally heavy one, and it gets at something very real about fame, art, and what happens to the people behind it.
The performances are what truly elevate this film. Anne Hathaway is extraordinary; this is some of her most emotionally layered work in years. She doesn't need big dramatic moments to pull you in. It's all in the small things, a look, a pause, the way her body carries the weight of everything unsaid. Michaela Coel matches her every step of the way, bringing a quiet, poetic intensity to Sam that makes even the simplest line of dialogue feel like it holds a deeper meaning.
The supporting cast, including Hunter Schafer and FKA Twigs, adds to the film's hazy, dreamlike texture. But honestly, this is Hathaway and Coel's film through and through. Every scene they share feels alive in a way that's hard to explain but impossible to look away from.
The film does have supernatural elements, but don't go in expecting a horror movie. The mysterious red fabric-like ghost that haunts the story isn't there to scare you; it represents something much more personal. Unresolved trauma. Guilt. The kind of emotional pain that two people share and never quite manage to leave behind.
It's one of the film's most haunting ideas, and it works. Pain here is treated almost like energy, something that passes between people, lingers for years, and eventually finds its way into the art they make. By the time the final act arrives, all of that suffering gets transformed into something unexpectedly beautiful. It feels like watching two people finally exhale. Like closure, but the kind that costs something to reach.
Mother Mary doesn't explain itself, and that will frustrate some people. It's not interested in neat storytelling, it wants you to pay attention to the feelings, the images, the silences between words. For some viewers, that will feel like a barrier. For others, it'll feel like a breath of fresh air.
At its core, it's a story about love, regret, identity, and the messy, complicated ways people leave marks on each other. Does it work perfectly all the time? Not quite. But it stays with you. It lingers in a way that most films simply don't. In an age where so many movies feel the need to spell everything out, Mother Mary trusts you to figure it out yourself, and honestly, that alone makes it worth watching.
Written by: Shreya Sharma
Edited by: Malini Jayan
