The short version
David Lowery has two careers: the safe, studio-friendly one and the arty, A24-ish one where he throws caution out the window. Mother Mary is very much the latter — a movie that wants to be transcendent and ends up mostly dramatic perfume.
What the film is aiming for
On paper it’s a gothic, spiritual-tinged melodrama — think wistful ghosts, longing reunions, and a sense that everything important is happening just off-camera. Lowery leans into atmosphere and mood over plot, inviting viewers into something hazy and ritualistic.
Where it dazzles (and where it trips)
The film looks and sounds like a midnight reverie: beautiful frames, slow-burning scenes, and a taste for the mystical. But the second half, which turns a reunion into a metaphysical tango, wanders into vagueness. Instead of emotional payoff, you get elliptical gestures that feel deliberate but sometimes leave you more confused than moved.
Style vs. substance — the perfume problem
There’s a real problem of excess here. Mother Mary keeps polishing the surface until the central feeling — a human, relatable ache — gets a bit lost. It’s as if the movie were a luxury scent ad stretched across two hours: gorgeous, but a little thin when you want dinner.
Why the film still matters
You can’t fault the bravery. Lowery is trying something that most directors would veto for being too strange or too risky. If you’re into films that flirt with ambiguity and prioritize mood, there’s plenty to admire, even when it doesn’t fully land.
Who will like it
If you loved A Ghost Story and don’t need every moment to tie up neatly, this will be right in your wheelhouse. If you’re craving a straightforward emotional through-line or a satisfying narrative burger, you’ll probably leave hungry.
Bottom line
Mother Mary is a bold, pretty, occasionally maddening film. It’s not a disaster — it’s an experiment with style dialed to 11. Admire the ambition, chuckle at the affectation, and maybe grab a comforting snack afterward.