The Mother

This is an assured, sombre and engrossing drama, penned by Hanif Kureishi which charts the sexual, emotional and spiritual awakening of a woman in the autumn of her life. Her name is May (an astounding Anne Reid) and early in the film, her husband dies, leaving her at the mercy of her two London based children, Bobby (Mackintosh) and Paula (Bradshaw), both of whom are horribly self-obsessed. While Bobby's business is crumbling around him, Paula is hopelessly in love with Bobby's married builder, Darren (Craig), who seems more interested in skiving off than doing much work. Initially deeply disappointed by Paula's choice of lover, the slowly emerging May begins to warm to him in a rather unexpected fashion.

An extremely intimate affair, 'The Mother' is a svelte film, utterly dependent on the performances of its central players to work as an effective document. In this regard, Craig, Bradshaw and the searing Reid are supreme, delivering intensely intricate, extremely natural turns which emphasis just how controlled and insightful Kureishi's screenplay is in depicting the sheer complexity of 'normal' family relations. For a man who has been busy making blockbusters for the last few years ('Changing Lanes', 'Notting Hill'), Mitchell shows a surprisingly deft touch, which isn't lacking in an aesthetic grace but never wantonly dominates the proceedings. It might be a little too heavy for some audiences, but 'The Mother' is a fragile, frequently insightful piece of work.