Film, Reviews, Screen

Why Darren Aronofsky is a sadist, and I hate mother! with the fire of a thousand burning suns

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In the final stretch of Darren Aronofsky’s desperately bleak, hammer-to-the-head drug drama Requiem for a Dream, the principal characters confront a series of challenges and hardships before eventually living happily ever after. And by “happily ever after”, I mean, this is an Aronofsky film, so:

  • Marlon Wayans lies in a cold sweat in prison, coming down from heroin;
  • Jared Leto wakes up in hospital to discover one of his infected, needle-jabbed arms has been chopped off;
  • Jennifer Connelly interacts with a double-ended dildo; and
  • Ellen Burstyn receives a brain-lobotomising dose of electroshock therapy.

In other words, they get off pretty lightly for a film directed by the seasoned cage-rattler, whose grasp of positivity and overall life outlook is, shall we say, not the same as the rest of us. The 48-year-old firebrand could re-edit Requiem, released in 2000, with a director’s cut that would be ten times as cruel to his characters – by making them sit through his latest provocation, mother!.

This lofty, pretentious, intellectually and emotionally grueling experience arrives machine-tooled to annoy as many people as possible, on as many levels as possible, down to the flagrant disregard for upper case lettering reflected in its title. The critics have been divided (though the film is currently sitting on a not-awful 68% Rotten Tomatoes rating) and the public even more so.

Given you read Daily Review, and therefore belong to the crème de la crème of the cultural elite, you’ve no doubt already heard friends and colleagues grouse about the film using words such as “sick”, “twisted” and “Ed Harris”.  The last star-studded American movie to cause this much consternation was La La Land. Picking on Damien Chazelle’s sweet, Hollywood homage musical now feels like hollering at a puppy dog.

For a while mother! seems relatable enough, the story (written by Aronofsky) hinged on a common grievance: the presence of houseguests who won’t leave no matter how many hints you drop. A sad-eyed, tormented Jennifer Lawrence plays the protagonist, wife of a famous, writer’s block-struck poet played by Jarvier Bardem (neither character, nor any other, are given proper names).

Jennifer Lawrence,gives an excellent, overstrung performance: a tangle of nerves stretched to – and beyond – breaking point. Just like the audience.

The titular exclamation mark perhaps refers to their guests, who adore the poet’s work and stick around like a bad smell. They are Man (Ed Harris) and Woman (Michelle Pfeiffer). The pair are told not to touch a precious, semi-transparent rock kept on a metal stand in the poet’s office, which he took from the ashes of a house previously burnt to the ground. Let’s just call it a ‘forbidden fruit’.

It doesn’t require extraordinary insight to understand that Aronofsky is trading in allegory. Which, if you haven’t guessed by now (perhaps this constitutes a mild spoiler – though I think this knowledge is more likely to make the film slightly more tolerable, if that is possible) is very much biblical. The director has stated this directly to the press, ensuring an already obvious message is spoonfed some more.

Aronofsky may appreciate comparisons to Roman Polankski’s seminal ‘Apartment Trilogy’, made from the mid-’60s to the mid-’70s: Repulsion, Rosemary’s Baby and The Tenant. This, again, does not require great insight. One of the posters for mother! pays homage to Rosemary’s Baby, as if delivering the critical populace ‘how to construct your review’ assembly instructions.

The director might also appreciate a nod to filmmaker Luis Buñuel’s 1962 surrealist drama The Exterminating Angel, an infinitely better and more interesting film, about a group of guests who attend a fancy dinner party and find themselves mysteriously unable to leave the room. Buñuel’s guests realise the oddness of their situation and critically analyse it. Eventually the luxurious mansion they are stuck in, replete with roaming wildlife, starts to look like a squandered Garden of Eden – or a moment from The Hangover.

Aronofsky’s guests see nothing unusual at all. This puts Lawrence’s character in a Twilight Zone-esque state of mind, whereby she wonders what on earth is wrong with everybody else – before eventually erupting into full-blown hysteria. This is comfortable ground for the director, who is sadistic to his characters even (sometimes especially) in his best work: the exhilarating ballerina-gone-bad fever dream Black Swan, and the poignant – albeit with a semi-suicidal, suitably Aronofskyan twist – The Wrestler.

Realism is not the objective of the drama, which is devoted to symbols and double meanings.

There are many reasons to hate, as I do, mother! with the fire of a thousand burning suns. Here are two that first come to mind.

For starters, the lack of space between Lawrence and the cinematographer, long-time Aronofsky collaborator Matthew Libatique, who clings to the actor’s agonised face like a creature out of a Ridley Scott movie. We remain in suffocatingly close proximity to Lawrence, who, I will concede gives an excellent, overstrung performance: a tangle of nerves stretched to – and beyond – breaking point. Just like the audience.

Instead of depicting the drama from her perspective, however, Aronofsky and Libatique’s technical approach focuses on Lawrence’s endlessly disbelieving reactions. The visual pull of the film feels reversed: the cinematic equivalent of using the secondary, selfie camera on your smartphone. It also has a slightly sleazy effect, as if you’re constantly breathing down Lawrence’s neck, or she is constantly breathing down yours.

And, of course, there is the question of meaning. Or Meaning. Or meaning! The presence of allegory is so strong in mother! that action and interpretation feel separated by a hair’s breadth. Which is to say: the text is the subtext. Realism is not the objective of the drama, which is devoted to symbols and double meanings. Like Aronofsky’s 2006 head trip The Fountain, which introduced Hugh Jackman to the Tree of Life, it feels like a high-flown student project that got out of control.

mother! only works if you accept it as an allegory. And if accepted as allegorical – biblical or otherwise – there is no escaping that it is brutally, contemptuously heavy-handed. There is a part of me that respects, entirely grudgingly, the audacity required to make such a monstrosity. And another, far greater part of me that would like to track down and set fire to every copy of this film, then dance on its ashes.


22 responses to “Why Darren Aronofsky is a sadist, and I hate mother! with the fire of a thousand burning suns

  1. Thanks for that!

    Timing is everything.

    I quite innocently booked tickets and saw it last night on a second date. Two things are now clear. No more following that boys movie recommendations. And rom com rom com rom com if you ever want a third date. mother! was unnecessarily gratuitous and assaulting. Will blacklist Aronofsky from here on in.

  2. Thanks so much for articulating some of my own loathing of this film. I have announced it to friends as the worst film I have seen in a very long time!

    1. I should have walked out, overrated piece of crap! It just went on and on and her abusive husband totally made me hate him as an actor too!

  3. I’ve paid good money, hard earned money, to see a film. I decide the film is a shocking piece of brainless violence and filth with no redeeming features at all.
    I’ve wasted my good money and precious time watching a director’s egotistical rubbish.
    I have every right to determine that never again will I be so stupid as to believe that this director has anything of value to impart.
    I have every right to blacklist the director.

  4. Reactions to this film tend to polarise. It was heavy handed, but engages the audience, positively or negatively, and works both as an allegory and an experience. Main criticisms seem to be it’s not the movie people were expecting such as – the trailer was a crock and Luke doesn’t like the close up camera work. The violence is almost all psychological, arising from the ‘world out of control’ vibe and the sheer violation of self-hood and agency of the protagonist by the guests who won’t leave. The Wolf Creek comparison is just weird. It’s not a franchise movie, people.

  5. At one point when soldiers turned up at the house, shooting around in the dark, and one turns around and shouts “MEDIC!”, I laughed because the film had finally jumped the shark. The ending with the stone was so pretentious it made me gag.

  6. Was it gratuitous and over the top? Yes. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Horror-Drama. Sounds like you have more of an issue with the genre. If you were strongly impacted, then I believe the film achieved its objective.

    I saw it as a surreal and symbolic take on someone being in a relationship with a Narcissist.

    Was it a masterpiece? No. Was I entertained? Yes.

  7. Interesting that the reviewer didn’t mention the very clear allegory (well it seemed that way to me) is that the film seems to be about the devastating effects of climate change on the planet, or “Mother Earth” (hence the title), and that the human race are essentially like unwelcome guests who “treat this place like a bloody hotel” (like your Mother may have scolded you as a teenager).

    Humankind is destroying Mother Earth through our own selfish pursuits with little regard to future generations – even the poet’s own child suffers the worst possible fate imaginable yet he seems unfazed, instead more consumed by his own success and adulation of the masses.

    Seems to me that it highlights the selfishness of mankind, that there are ppl motivated by material wealth, fame and rampant capitalism to the extent that mankind will be the author of his own demise and that there is certain inevitability to this, despite Mother Earth providing a perfectly habitable planet if only we treated it with some respect for ourselves and for future generations.

    I could of course, be reading too much into it.

    1. And yet maybe uncannily that’s the most cogent explanation I’ve heard to date. And boy did there need to be a cogent explanation

      1. Lol.. The ending also suggested that the whole cycle of rebirth / regeneration would begin anew, only for the entire sorry saga to unfold again – perhaps in an analogy to the last Ice Age and then the eventual rebirth that followed…Only to be followed by climate change and devastation as a result of mankind’s shortsightedness, greed and folly.

  8. As a (slightly lapsed) Wiccan, I actually thought it was kind of effective. Do cinema goers understand subtletly, anyway? Yes, there was a point where you go “Oh, of course, God is the bad guy all along” but I think as tropes go, it’s probably a least somewhat realistic.

  9. Another masterpiece by Aronofsky.
    Every film he makes pushes the envelope of experience further.
    This film tells the history of mankind in all its ego plagued misery.


  10. I loved the film. To be honest, I thougt it as more of a critique of the Rothschild/Rockefeller ‘ordo ab chao’ crowd than as a movie about climate change though.

  11. Won’t be watching. The synopsis I’ve read of it already shows it’ll be more heavy-handed drivel passing for High Art, like two of his “best” movies I loathed, Requiem blah-blah and Black Swan. Both were well made and well acted and totally overrated, both had moments that were supposed (I guess) to be shocking/epiphany-inducing and came off as just cheap, crass, and obvious – like, 12-year-old boy obvious. The movie is stated to be about “mother Earth”, and may also be an attempt by Aronofsky to offset criticism of his treatment of female characters, but honestly, it sounds more pretentious and macho than ever. Eating a baby? Really? As the box-office rightly pointed out, if you’re just gonna go for the adult male equivalent of boys’ drawings of detached eyeballs, don’t try to sell it as an a mea culpa either to mother Earth or women in general. The sheer pretentiousness (and ridiculousness) of having a “star” Poet with writer’s block as a main character, even if he does get kinda tortured during the movie, should be a giant red flag. Aronofsky has talent as far as the visual aspects of filmmaking, but his “messages” tend to be mundane, his symbolism cliche, clumsy and adolescent. He would also appear to have no discernible sense of humour.

    BTW, excellent review! Just watched Westworld, so you had me at “heard friends and colleagues grouse about the film using words such as “sick”, “twisted” and “Ed Harris”.

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