Mother Mary

The Perfect Post-Coachella Popstar Downfall Marketing Chart-Trap.

“Mother Mary” is the ultimate tale from A24 of the dark side of the pop world: flashing lights,

narcotic-songs, and glittery-provocative costumes.

But as we know, these are just the blinding lights of an existential void called fame… so how many times do we still have to hear this story? And why is this still considered relevant enough for the audience to carry this narrative?

I might sound cynical, but movies are really starting to look all the same. Drama-Horror-Thriller has become this loop of psychosexual, existential stories of elevated boredom.

There is no innovation, no interesting characters, just the same copy-paste mechanism that works because two weeks of hyped marketing campaigns promise us something we already know we’re not going to get.

Directed by David Lowery, “Mother Mary” is about a popstar in existential crisis, in search of a comeback after a mysterious event, where her persona and her real self collide into almost two hours of never-ending dialogue.

It all starts when she turns up to her old friend, fashion designer Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel), looking for an outfit that feels like me for her big comeback.

Honestly, that’s all you need to know… because that’s exactly what it is. Maybe I’m writing out of rage, but I can’t feel any other way.

I’ve always been a fan of symbolism, existential and abstract movies—but when they’re done right, when there’s a clear vision behind them, when they actually know what they want to say, or at least leave the viewer something to look through. None of this is “Mother Mary.”

Yes, it’s beautifully shot. Great cinematography, great performances. But don’t be fooled—nowadays making a movie visually good is not really about talent or personal vision anymore.

Tools are easily accessible, everything feels controlled, and everything looks perfectly packaged. And that’s exactly the issue with indie cinema: no more experimentation, no technical more mistakes, no more braveness.

And it’s those imperfections that make even a mediocre or bad execution a movie you can feel—because you can see the passion behind it.

Now it’s all engineered. A script that works on paper, actors and directors that attract audiences just because they have that fresh-air attitude—but the reality is that apart from maybe a cute popcorn bucket and some cool gadgets, you’re left with nothing.

Anne Hathaway plays Mother Mary and said she was inspired by Lady Gaga for the stage performances. The idea of a tribute to one of the truest modern pop artists is visible (like her or not, her talent is not up for debate).

But along with her imaginary vision, we get music by Charli XCX, FKA Twigs, and Jack Antonoff—names that are alternative enough but still mainstream to get you excited for the product.

Charli XCX is becoming like parsley—you find her in everything, especially around A24 projects. A few months ago, her cinematic debut with the mockumentary “The Moment” felt like an introduction, but now it stops feeling like an artistic choice and starts leaking into re-branding.

And then Jack Antonoff—who has written for Taylor Swift, Lana Del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Pink—not mentioned as a compliment, but as a signal. These are names used to sell a product, to attract an audience before the movie even has to prove anything.

Anne Hathaway gives an intense performance. She is convincing as a pop star, both in the dialogue moments and during a stunning silent dancing scene that gets you hypnotised. But it’s still not enough.

At the end, this popstar in crisis narrative is becoming a trend to the point of exhaustion. We’ve seen it again and again—last year with The Weeknd’s “Hurry Up Tomorrow”—and now with “Mother Mary.” Different forms, but it still feels like the same story being recycled in the same shallow trio: fame, identity, breakdown… re-branding.

Visually, “Mother Mary” echoes the 2018 movie “In Fabric”—like the idea that a costume can eat you from the inside—but here it never evolves into something truly disturbing or meaningful.

Yes, the movie tries to tell the story of the people behind the music, with a psychological tone—and even adds a hint of cuts and bloods just to give some satisfaction to horror fans—but again, that’s it.

It never really knows how to get into your brain.

The psychological side is mostly reduced to dialogue between Mother Mary and Sam Anselm. Even before things get supernatural, the conversation feels overwritten to the point of parody, and the pacing drags like a boring lullaby album.

Saying it starts boring is almost a compliment, because by halfway it reaches a level of pure boredom, with some moments of fever-dream imagery that are visually striking—but completely empty in meaning.

We never really learn where “Mother Mary” sits in the larger cultural climate of the film’s world.

“Mother Mary” is probably one of the most disappointing movies so far. Not because it’s technically bad, but because it’s exactly this kind of film that makes a genre feel like it’s dying under its own weight.

Maybe one day, some other filmmaker will build on its ideas, and we’ll get a movie worthy of those questions.