Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2020
Images from the Internet
M.O.M. (Mothers of Monsters)
Directed by Tucia Lyman
Indie Rights Movies / Aha Productions
99 minutes, 2020
The following
statement comes with a caveat: films like The Blair Witch Project (1999)
ruined the found footage genre for me, in most cases. It has come across as a
cheap way to tell a story by either letting the actors be the filmmakers, or
the use of mounted cameras, which takes it away from a human touch (sort of like
a scan-it-yourself aisle in a supermarket). But, every once in a while, someone
still manages to make it right. Hence, this exception.
We live in a world
full of reflection through a camera, be it selfies or someone trying to make some
kind of record of an incident (e.g., check out public meltdown videos on
YouTube). Either way it is based on ego, such as believing the event is important,
a way to point a finger of blame away from oneself to another (for example, the
1983 book And I Don’t Want to Live This Life, by Nancy Spungen’s mom, Deborah),
or a deep-seated fear that compels one want to make sure your story is told.
This film falls into all three of these categories.
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| Melinda Page Hamilton |
The mother in question
is Abby (Melinda Page Hamilton). Her teenage son, Jacob (Bailey Edwards), has a
history of acting out in violent ways that Abby refers to as “Monster Time,”
such as randomly dropping bricks off high buildings without looking to see if
anyone is below. With a way of charming psychoanalysts that most true psychopaths
have, he has managed to skirt his way around the legal system. This worries
Abby because, in part, as she states early on, “Remember what happened to the
Boy who Cried Wolf; he was eaten by the fucking wolf.”
The found footage
aspect is either Abby recording herself on a cell phone to tell her side of the
story, videos made by others such as Jacob’s friends, or the hidden cameras
Abby has placed throughout the house. We get to view them, not necessarily in
chronological order, thereby giving us a bit of perspective on Jacob to show
that it’s possibly not just a puberty/hormone thing.
One of the brilliant
aspects of this thriller is the question of absolutes. Jacob can be an outright
shit, but so can Abby. The question is left hanging for quite a while whether
Jacob is insanely violent, or is his mom over-vigilant – such as lack of
respect of his privacy – due to aspects such as her over-drinking wine-goggles,
or Adderall pills she sneaks from Jacob (or both).
One important way of
looking at this is through a modern lens, both literally and figuratively. On
the literal side, the tone of the film puts it clearly in the canon alongside
the likes of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) with the mood of
intra-family fear of threats of violence that keep escalating. Though in color,
this is clearly a Noir piece with modern technology of cells, Skype and Spy
Cams added in.
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| Bailey Edwards |
As for the figurative,
despite its gothic throwback mood, it’s placed in a modern situation, where
teenagers are inundated with not just said technology, but the psychological
damage of living in a post-Columbine era of increasingly frequent mass
shootings, a fascination with Nazis, casual Anti-Semitism, and public spectacles
of events like Charlottesville, all of which play into the story in some form
or another.
Most indie films have
some questionable acting, but every person here puts in a solid performance.
Edwards is strong as he seems to flip back and forth between a normal kid and
one that you are really not too sure about (I certainly would not want my
daughter to date Jacob, but would understand why she might be attracted to him).
But as the lynchpin, Hamilton’s portrayal of Abby is Class-A work, and would be
deserving of Festival wins at the least. Her past experiences in the likes of numerous
television series such as Messiah, How to Get Away with Murder, Mad Men and
Big Love come through spectacularly. There is also a very short cameo by
Ed Asner, for some added star power.
Lately, I have been
feeling more and more as though those who write a film should not direct them
because it helps to have a third party do some editing (Hereditary and Midsommar
come to mind). However, Tucia Lyman balances the two like a champ, and makes me
have second thoughts about that. Before this piece of psychological cinema, her
directorial experience was a couple of documentaries and a few episodes of a
television series about “real” ghosts, though you’d never know that this was
her feature debut.
There are some scenes
that are unexpected and downright shocking (again, figuratively and literally),
with some squeamish bits, but mostly this is a psychological thriller. The game
of “who is the crazy one” is played out in sharp detail, and there are lots of
twists and turns to keep the viewer entertained from the first shot to the
last.
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