David Lowery is a filmmaker who doesn't always concern himself with whether his films will alienate an audience, as proven by his new movie "Mother Mary." Like any filmmaker, sometimes Lowery needs to make a movie to get the next passion project financed (his 2016 "Pete's Dragon" is one of the loveliest and most underappreciated Disney live-action remakes) and it seems his "one for me" time has come again.
"Mother Mary" is phantasmagoric exploration of a relationship between a pop star and her fashion designer. Mary (Anne Hathaway) is a pop superstar, by way of Lady Gaga, who needs a very specific dress made for an upcoming tour that she may consider to be her last. She ends up at the door of Sam Anslem (Michaela Coel), who she has a turbulent past with, but Lowery's screenplay doesn't immediately divulge the nature of their relationship. It's clear that there are wounds that have yet to be healed between Mary and Sam.
Mary tells Sam she needs a dress by Sunday (she arrives on Thursday) and she can only wear one made by Sam. When Sam inquires about the dress she must already have for Sunday's show, Mary tells her it's not right for the performance and she doesn't feel like herself in the dress. Mary knows only Sam can dress her in a way that makes sense and feels right. Sam is hesitant based on time or wanting to get involved with Mary again, but she gets to work measuring and cutting to bring a new dress to life.
The majority of "Mother Mary" takes place in Sam's studio. The contained setting helps give the movie its spark of dramatic tension, as Mary and Sam exchange barbs over their past. Mary is in Sam's home, wounded and desperate, while Sam is succinct and cutting without every trying to be purposefully hurtful (well, except for when she tells Mary she never listens to her music, maybe). The separation between the once-friends and collaborators comes into focus and it's clear that Sam is still hurt by Mary's disregard for her work and their relationship.
It's not Lowery's style to make something as straightforward as two friends relitigating their past, so the movie is infused with spiritual and supernatural elements. This approach has worked for Lowery in the past, especially with 2017's "A Ghost Story," the best movie of its year, which is a stripped-down marvel of a film, a true thought-provoking artistic masterpiece. Since 2017, Lowery's scale has continued to grow as he establishes himself as an indie auteur (with occasional detours with Disney), and "Mother Mary" gives him more room to splash his ideas across the screen. Some of the imagery presented is effective, but occasionally it can derail the movie.
Hathaway and Coel build believable and lived-in rapport between their characters, which is important for making the time spent in Sam's studio more effective. Hathaway, who is a great actress and gearing up for a busy 2026 with four more movies still to come, has given tearful performances like she does in "Mother Mary" before. It's not to say her performance here doesn't work; she makes the audience feel Mary's exhaustion, but she isn't working in a new register. Coel's channeling of Sam's hurt is what makes their back-and-forth fill the screen. Sam's blunt answers to Mary's questions show that the character has been waiting for years to let everything out, but Coel modulation between hurt and conducting business is a delicate skill.
Lowery rightfully doesn't turn his screenplay into a treatise on fame or pop stardom, instead leaving the ripple effects of Mary's celebrity in the background of the film. His primary focus is the relationship between Sam and Mary and how past wounds will always haunt those in the present. Can the past ever really be left there? Sometimes, maybe. Other times, it might wind up at your doorstep, needing a dress made.
| Movie title | Mother Mary |
|---|---|
| Release year | 2026 |
| MPAA Rating | R |
| Our rating | |
| Summary | Indie auteur David Lowery's latest is a phantasmagoric two-hander that explores the relationship between a pop star and her fashion designer, delving into past wounds and how they haunt those in the present. |