Blu-ray Review: Darren Aronofsky’s Masterpiece “mother!” Is Not For The Faint Of Heart

A couple’s relationship is tested when uninvited guests arrive at their home, disrupting their tranquil existence.

Talk about word of mouth. Darren Aronofsky’s “mother!” got the rarefied “F” Cinemascore among frustrated, confused audiences, who either expected a conventionally-structured Jennifer Lawrence vehicle or an elegant character study, in the vein of the director’s “Black Swan” or “The Wrestler.” Unable to digest the steadily deteriorating allegorical world of its protagonist, audiences fled, stamping the film with the score previously attributed to films like “Disaster Movie,” “Alone in the Dark” and, infamously, Richard Kelly’s “The Box.” Consequently, “mother!” earned a measly $7.5MM on its opening weekend, and a total of $18MM so far, on a $33MM budget. A month later, Christopher Landon’s “Happy Death Day” – a teen-slasher-horror-retread of “Groundhog Day” – made on $5MM, raked in $55MM domestically. Go figure.

Sometimes audiences get it wrong. In the pantheon of “exiled” F-Cinemascore films, at least six are, in fact, good-to-excellent: William Friedkin’s “Bug,” Robert Altman’s “Doctor T and the Women,” Jane Campion’s “In the Cut,” Stephen Soderbergh’s “Solaris,” Greg McLean’s “Wolf Creek” – and now, “mother!” Whether it’s the case of misguided marketing, audience expectations or the director being ahead of his time remains to be seen, but I have a strong feeling that, upon repeated viewings, those same haters will grow to appreciate Aronofsky’s mastery of craft in a sublime, ballsy, once-in-a-decade example of filmmaking.

Yes, it may be flawed, just because its ambition geysers out in shocking, brutal streams, as if the director were unable to contain himself. He wrote the first draft in less than a week, and it shows: the inspiration, the fevered intensity, the cerebral rumination of its creator is all there, on the grainy, 16mm screen. The film itself – following the descent into madness of its nameless, motherly protagonist, played by Jennifer Lawrence – is structured like a linear-albeit-mad dream, an evocation of an artist’s subterranean existential wanderings. Organized chaos. Paranoia. A woman scorned. Heaven and hell. Environmental disaster. Apocalypse. It’s all there, folks, in a seemingly simple tale of a young woman falling prey to her writer husband’s (a nameless Javier Bardem) obsessions.

What starts off as a tranquil story of an interior decorator and a writer, living in an idyllic, undefined h(e)aven rapidly spirals into an “I can’t believe this is happening” deconstruction of said h(e)aven. The arrival of Ed Harris’ sickly Man and Michelle Pfeiffer’s overly inquisitive Woman signals the beginning of the end. As the walls that she so carefully sculpted crumble around her, Mother finds herself helpless against humanity’s remorseless assault. The climactic, stratospherically intense, stirring and violent sequence may have been the reason for the audience’s dismay, but logically, in this illogical world, there was no way to end but The End. And yet, Aronofsky hints at another beginning. In the words of Samuel R. Delany, “Apocalypse has come and gone. We’re just grubbing in the ashes.”

The direction is impeccable, as fluid as the cinematography, Aronofsky and long-time collaborator Libatique forming a symbiotic duo, the camera gliding over increasingly corroded walls and surfaces, but mostly staying focused on Lawrence’s features. And boy, does she hold the screen. A gamut of emotions – from contentment to bewilderment to stoic heroism to grief – plays out on her face, lit in soft, angel-like colors, for she is the Good amongst the unraveling Chaos. In the masterful hands of her director, Lawrence’s painful journey is more than justified. Unlike her glitzy, Oscar-Winning roles, this one gets under your skin. Think Scarlett Johansson in – no pun intended – Jonathan Glazer’s “Under the Skin” or Kate Winslet in Michel Gondry’s “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” but even more harrowing in its rawness.

While Lawrence runs the show, Bardem is right up there with her, counterbalancing Lawrence’s gentleness and our sympathy with a heavy, dreadful presence, a symbol of our collective penchant for greed, fanaticism, disguised under a smarmy facade of charm. Harris and Pfeiffer are equally memorable in smaller but crucial parts, the former exuding both menace and vulnerability while the latter’s invasive, eccentric nature is a welcome comical – albeit creepy – counterpoint to the heavy proceedings. Kristen Wiig shows up in a truly unforgettable, rabid cameo.

The beauty of “mother!” is that it can be scrutinized from multiple perspectives. It can be viewed as a minimalist retelling of the Bible, or as a feminist parable / desperate shriek into the abyss, or as an environmental allegory, or as a global political statement, or simply as a psychedelic horror thriller. Essays could be written about the film being one or all – or none – of the above. And that’s the beauty of this film, that makes its poor box-office performance, its reportedly arduous shoot (Lawrence allegedly walked off set, fed up by the insanity of it all) and the mixed critical reception worth it. Brave, divisive art such as this tends to stand the test of time.

And in tumultuous times, we turn to art. These days, “mother!” is a breath of fresh air, despite its dark, dark themes. I applaud Aronofsky’s audacity. I thank him for daring to release something unconventional, something jarring and horrifying and mesmerizing and unforgettable. “mother!” ripped my heart out. It is the best film of 2017.

Available on 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray & DVD December 19th