Michaela Coel and Anne Hathaway are Spooky, Stylish, and Surprisingly Sexy in Mother Mary
DIRECTED BY DAVID LOWERY/2026
This is not a ghost story. That is what the poster for this film cheekily reminds us right before we cross the veil. Truthfully, I think any audience member could have predicted the spooky psychological approach with the abundance of Gothic aesthetics and distinct lack of lighting. With the additional knowledge that David Lowery is in the director’s chair, it is quite evident that things are about to get freaky. Known for spending his time in the industry flitting between experimental indie features and the substantially more lucrative world of Disney, Lowery began this film’s construction way back in 2023. Now, years later, the product that emerges is a Frankenstein of a feature: one part two-person drama, some Lady Gaga concert aesthetics added in, a heavy-handed dose of horror, and a ghost haunting the narrative.
Our titular character, played by Anne Hathaway, is an A-list musician on the verge of a climatic comeback after a horrific event at her last concert left her out of commission. At the same time, just across the pond, designer Sam Anselm (Michaela Coel) fervently prepares for her upcoming fashion show. But – as Coel’s masterfully dramatic voice-over informs us – she can sense a primal tug deep within her subconscious that could only possibly be the blaring of a warning siren. Sure enough, her former best friend and employer arrives at her Gothic mansion’s doorstep with watery eyes and her metaphorical tail between her legs after a decade of silence. It is unrestrained desperation that has brought the pop star crawling back to beg for the type of assistance only Sam can provide. On the eve of Mary’s anticipated return to the stage, she has found herself in dire need of the proper dress for such an occasion. After watching the pathetic woman grovel in a drawn-out humiliation ritual, Sam begrudgingly acquiesces to the demand.
The following dance between the two talented artists is undeniably hypnotic. This version of Mary is a hollowed-out shell of the dazzling diva her fans revere. Lowery found inspiration in actual iconic musicians with famously fervent fanbases, the likes of which include Taylor Swift, Beyonce, and Madonna to name a few. Our fictional pop musician seems to finally be cracking under the crushing weight of expectation brought upon by fame and success. Sam, perhaps sensing the moment of weakness from the other woman, takes control of the situation immediately. Considering Mother Mary remains tightly centralized within Sam’s barn-like studio, she dominates the space. While Mary is subdued by pain and exhaustion, Sam is full of razor-sharp edges. Every inch of her ire is laser-focused on her ex-best friend as she relentlessly drills into her with probing questions. Coel chews up the extensive dialogue with a predatory grin and eyes that burn with accusations. Sam is a disciple cast out and betrayed by the deity who’s alter she once lovingly crafted with her bare hands. It is a betrayal of the cosmic variety: Jesus and Judas, Cain and Abel, and now Mary and Sam. This primal level of resentment and hurt can only be breed from a deep love that once existed. There is also a sexual level to the relationship that is touched upon each time they invade each other’s space with a familiar ease. No matter the relationship status, it is glaringly evident that both are haunted by their past – a phrase that takes on a more literal meaning.
When the previously grounded film takes a wild leap into supernatural territory, it is this pair that keeps it all anchored. The pivotal shift in subject matter manages to revive the film before it can sink into repetitive conversational dialogue. In the dark of the night, Sam and Mary exchange their respective ghost stories as they realize they have been visited by the same spirit, represented by a shapeless, flowing piece of blood-red fabric. From that moment, Mother Mary plunges into the paranormal with a reckless abandon. There is an array of memorable scenes to note here, namely the haunting séance conducted by Imogen (FKA twigs) where Mary and her team make initial contact with the spirit. A brief sequence demonstrating the legitimate destructive cycle of live performance as Mary’s mental state spirals due to the ghoul’s frightening. Hathaway is the epicenter of all the horror, and she handles it with the expertise of a veteran. There is an especially bone-chilling sequence where she runs through the choreography of her newest song in complete silence. Hathaway hurls and contorts her body in an impressive physical display that wavers between possession or exorcism. This violent physical display is as eerie as it is captivating, and it represents the film’s first shift into the realm of the occult.
This tonal change also the precise moment that Lowery loosens his grip at the helm as the themes get murkier and buried somewhere within the dazzling imagery. As is becoming the moderately worrisome trend with A24 productions, there is surely an uneven balance between style and substance in Mother Mary. Granted, the visuals are jaw-dropping thanks to the combined respective efforts of D.P.s Andrew Droz Palermo and Rina Yang. The blend of Gothic horror with the glitzy bodysuits merely adds to the uncanniness. Palermo explores the seductive darkness with an expert hand, while Yang does an admirable job recreating the formula for a spectacular stadium tour documentary. The costumes themselves are stunning masterpieces to say the least. The music – all original songs written by Jack Antonoff and Charli XCX – are techno mixes that are not especially revolutionary in the modern era of pop albums. Regardless, it is delightful to see Hathaway behind a microphone once again.
Drowning itself in endless metaphors and hypnotic religious imagery, Mother Mary struggles to emerge as a universally satisfying piece of art. There are guaranteed to be audience members left frustrated and befuddled. Not every detail connects cleanly, and there are one too many fascinating questions left tragically ambiguous. What remains is a tale of two people intrinsically intertwined by something metaphysical. Throughout the film, the phrase “Spooky Action” is routinely mentioned in reference to Mary’s newest single. The term itself stems refers to Einstein’s theory of quantum entanglement. According to the great mathematician, the theory suggests that certain particles are permanently linked and therefore have the ability to affect each other even across light-years. In this case, our particles are human souls fully incapable of wholly escaping the influence of the other. Whether personal or professional, romantic or platonic, full of love or full of hate, there is a transcendental bond that binds Sam and Mary. These are women possessed by an emotional connection that is impossible to exorcise, left only to haunt each other across space and time.