Although this French-Canadian film got its U.S. release back in January of 2015, I still feel compelled to articulate my thoughts about it. "Mommy" is Xavier Dolan’s somewhat divisive fifth feature, and among its many accolades is the Jury Prize (essentially third place) at the Cannes Film Festival. The first thing you’ll probably notice about the movie is that it’s shot in a 1:1 aspect ratio. This means the length of the frame is the same as the width; it is a perfect square. Unusual (though not unheard of), Dolan rationalized this choice by arguing that it fits the intimate and private nature of the film. I agree. Though such experimentation has been denounced by some as pretentious, it fits the confined and cluttered content of the fractured lives depicted onscreen. And it is how much you care about these lives that will really determine whether you buy what the film is selling.
Enter Steve Deprés, a 16-year-old who we are introduced via a string of colorful epithets through a walkie-talkie and a counselor detailing how he had recently set fire to a cafeteria. Not the most auspicious factors when attempting to connect with a character, but if he were Tom Hanks there wouldn’t be much of an emotional journey for the audience. Antoine-Olivier Pilon performs as Steve, and he’s mostly effective and compelling if fairly one-note throughout. However, his vulgarity serves as a catalyst for Anne Dorval’s humane and utterly convincing performance as Diane Deprés, the poor mother that has to deal with this kid. Rounding the two out is the odd but ultimately welcome inclusion of Kyla, a stuttering neighbor who tutors Steve. What ensues is essentially a series of emotional crescendos and decrescendos in the sordid lives of these two. Transcendent montages of visual splendor and emotional clarity are inevitably punctured by the harsh, confused reality of their lives. These moments, beyond providing playful levity and a striking sense of freedom, slowly won me over to feeling sympathy for Steve. There are no real villains to be found here, just broken people trying to cope with the world. I kept hoping that one of these moments of levity would lead to some form of resolution, but frustratingly that never happened. Like most of the film, this was harsh and unpleasant but honest.
Dolan’s visual styling is assuredly eccentric, but it worked for me pretty consistently. The aforementioned truncation of the screen, as well as the camera's tendency for shallow depth of field, made me feel like I was squinting the whole time, and not in a bad way. The chaos of the characters’ lives is hazed and claustrophobic, and these stylistic choices go a long way in communicating this myopia. There is a spontaneity to Dolan’s camerawork that I also found appealing. On the other hand, this means you won’t find much formal rigor in the compositions. Finally, the delicate blues and shimmering golds flesh out the melancholy milieu of vacant parking lots and small apartments.
The screenplay is probably my biggest gripe with the movie, as several potentially interesting character points are established but never developed. For instance, neighbor Kyla has an estranged little daughter, but beyond meeting her we never see how Kyla’s relationship with Steve alters her relationship with her own child. Also, the frequent emotional climaxes, though never contrived in my opinion, do nevertheless become pretty predictable after a while.
In the end, it is not the plot but the great performances and powerful sentiments that make this movie worth a watch. By the closing credits, I found the movie to be both provocatively invigorating and bitterly sad. Perhaps the most flattering compliment I can pay "Mommy" is its ability to convey one of cinema’s most noble capacities, the power to expand one’s empathy.
