Adapted by Alice Birch from Graham Swift's novel, Mothering Sunday depicts a day in the life of a young maid in 1920s England. She's been having an affair with a rich boy before he leaves to be married off, plans are made for an afternoon of farewell sex. Throughout, the trauma of World War I haunts the nation, ghosts looming over the living who try to conceal their brokenness through social pageantry. It's all told as remembrance, a writer looking back at her youth, trying to articulate a momentous episode on the page. Cut to non-linear smithereens, the film's prone to disrupt stately historical drama with wet carnality. Flashes of lustful memory often barge their way into unrelated scenes, like rainwater flooding a basement's every nook and cranny...
I'd love to tell you this all amounts to a great picture, close in quality to director Eva Husson's fantastic debut, Bang Gang (A Love Story). Sadly, that would be a lie, for Mothering Sunday is meandering to a fault. Nevertheless, there are plenty of reasons to watch it. Let's peruse the top five.
GLENDA JACKSON IS BACK ON THE SILVER SCREEN
Some might seek Mothering Sunday this weekend as a way to clear the mind from the ruckus of Oscar season's homestretch. While eligible for the 94th Academy Awards, the movie was never in the race for gold. And yet, the Oscars loom large over the flick's cast list. Awards aficionados are bound to notice the name of two-time Best Actress champion Glenda Jackson as the older version of the picture's protagonist, Jane Fairchild. Mothering Sunday is a bit of an occasion, in that regard, marking the first theatrically released feature Jackson's been in since 1990's King of the Wind.
Though she was a big-name star in the late 60s and throughout the 70s, Jackson didn't devote her life to screen acting. She continued to do theater more regularly than movies and, in 1992, took a hiatus from acting altogether. In its stead, the Oscar winner went into politics and was a Labor Party MP until 2010. In 2015, she stood down and returned to acting, first on the stage, and now, back on the silver screen. Be warned, though, that Jackson's role is minimal.
OLIVIA COLMAN, HER ‘BIG’ SCENES
No matter how much the text insists on the film as a reflection upon the scars left by the war, only one character externalizes that plight. As Mrs. Clarrie Niven, Olivia Colman plays Jane Fairchild's aristocratic employer, her mistress. She spends most of her scenes fading into the background, a mass of amorphous ennui. It feels like the woman's a specter already, only recognized as a living being because of her fleshy presence and a barely beating heart. She seems dislocated, mind and body suffering some abject disconnection.
But of course, when given a chance, Colman gets to make subtext into text. She blows the rest of her colleagues out of the water in the process. Akin to a broken mechanism, Mrs. Niven sputters her way through teatime pleasantries, finally unable to hide the darkness percolating within all the people on-screen. Later, in the intimacy of her room, she confides the same darkness to her maid. Truth be told, neither moment hold a candle to Colman's most famous roles. Still, in the context of Mothering Sunday, it's as big as it gets. For brief instants, the movie has a pulse.
THAT FASCINATING SCORE
Mothering Sunday's game of disruption extends beyond its text and editing. The soundscape similarly pits the tenets of British costume drama against a modernist edge. In this case, that effect is accomplished through a score dominated by the unsteady marriage of romantic strings and droning electronic sounds. Even the strings themselves, often driven to voluptuous excess, feel electrified by some mysterious nervousness. Instead of lush, they can sound like the spiky prelude to a migraine, while the digital sound design may rumble a calming purr.
The soundtrack includes pre-existing compositions by Nils Frahm, but most of the score is the work of Morgan Kibby, who goes by the artistic name White Sea. The singer-songwriter has done the music for all of Eva Husson's features, and I can't help to experience whatever score she does next.
SANDY POWELL'S PERIOD COSTUMES
As we all know, Sandy Powell is one of the best costume designers in contemporary cinema. Her creations are always noteworthy, no matter the size of the project, and, whether doing modern clothing or period attire, she rarely misses the mark. Mothering Sunday finds her working within a 1920s milieu, which she previously explored in pictures like Martin Scorsese's The Aviator and Todd Haynes's Wonderstruck. However, the specificities of this narrative are unique in the designer's resume.
Mostly set in England during the early 20s, Mothering Sunday demands a wardrobe marked by underlining tensions – between tradition and modernity, between classes, war and peace. There's a great weight to these designs, cumbersome details that make cloth feel like an embracing prison, and none of the clichéd flapperisms one might associate with the era. The colors also stand out, teatime amid the rich looking like a garden of misshapen flowers in jewel tones. Powell showcases her innate sense of theatricality as well as her knowledge of fashion idiosyncrasies, the historical weirdness that's often sanded-off in the name of audience relatability.
JOSH O'CONNOR, ALL OF JOSH O’CONNOR
Judging by his proclivities for on-screen nudity, Josh O'Connor seems keen on becoming this generations' answer to Ewan McGregor circa late 90s. I, for one, am not complaining. While his performance in Mothering Sunday pales in comparison to his best works, he takes his kit off to compensate. It's all done with casual candor, the camera's gaze more matter-of-fact than strictly erotic. Nonetheless, it's quite the show. After gazing upon his body as shot by Husson and cinematographer Jamie Ramsay, it's hard to care about the actor's ability to overcome a frustrating part.
Also, as much as one loves Powell's costumes, sometimes the best costume is the absence of one.
Do any of these factors make you want to watch Mothering Sunday? It's now playing in select cities.