(ARCHIVE REVIEW) Funny that the two main complaints are "it's too obvious" and "huh i no get it"

Rating: 8/10 (5 March 2020)

For a moment, I believed that Darren Aronofsky had lost me with Mother (or mother! as it is stylized). This is one my favorite directors of all time, who has made a handful of movies, each of them (even his Noah, on which I went easy because I enjoyed the reactions of the Christians who seemed bothered seeing the story they're used to be shown for the horror it is) distinct and strange in its own way.
With Mother, the trailers implied he was going for a more conventional horror flick with little to remark. Even if I admit how wrong I was, I may be spoiling the experience - this is one of the most upredictably nightmarish journeys of 2017 and I dare not say too much. Despite my attempts at this, I implore you: proceed at your own caution.
Like many of Aronofsky's works (The Fountain being the most obvious), Mother is short on providing clear answers to its mystifying images and events, but this doesn't hurt the film so much as it makes for an uncomfortable yet transfixingly surreal experience. For some, this will be a turn-off; as "Adum" of YourMovieSucksDotOrg has sagely pointed out, this is hardly intended for the sort of movie-goer that would want to see it solely because it starts Jennifer Lawrence.
Specifically, Lawrence plays a character whose name I will not reveal here, but she resides in a beautiful home with her husband (Javier Bardem), a struggling poet the baby of whom she also carries. As serene as things may seem, ominous visions appear to her and one night the couple is visited by a man (Ed Harris) in need of help, and eventually the man's wife (Michelle Pfeiffer) as well. What follows, I will not give away either.
I can mention that the supporting cast is rich, even if they can be hard to glimpse through the eyes of our often disoriented heroine. Brothers Brian and Domhnall Gleeson portray two in-universe brothers and Stephen McHattie and Kristen Wiig can be spotted when chaos ensues.
There is a constant sense of unease and confusion throughout the film, conveyed brilliantly via the befuddled perspective of Lawrence, who turns in one of the best performances of her career. Even at the film's most pleasant moments, there remains an underlying feeling that hostile beings roam within this world we've entered.
The film is minimal when it comes to studio lighting, which isn't bad for the image quality so much as it's immersive by way of being natural. With a certain level of realism to the film, which is further aided by the shaky camera work and the complete lack of music, the strange and inexplicable events seem all the more threatening.
Admittedly, there comes a point where the hostility of this world arguably goes too far (it may even appear silly), although it is forgivable once you understand the allegory. The confusion we share with the protagonist about the humans she meets is one thing; the true question is of what it all symbolizes.
There are images and motifs that evoke Eraserhead and Aronofsky's first movie Pi, but the central theme is more similar to that of, say, E. Elias Mirhage's Begotten. Yes, the initial experience is generally unpleasant; it is the realizations we come to that make it worth it, even if those aren't exactly cheerful either. Some argue that the allegory is obvious, but not all audience members are so fortunate:
Since its release, many viewers have expressed their frustration with the film, even critics declaring that the art has somehow failed because it doesn't spoon-feed explanations to its beholders. Sure thing. We can go with that conclusion if it makes you feel better about your unwillingness to engage with cinema on anything other than a literal or optical level (or the "I just wanted to see my bae JLaw, but now the movie's, like, asking me to think" level).