A teen with a terminal diagnosis discovers a witch who may have an unconventional cure for her illness.
Review by Eric Hillis
Directed by: John Adams, Toby Poser, Zelda Adams
Starring: John Adams, Toby Poser, Zelda Adams, Lulu Adams, James Lindsay, Noble Wilson-Eiden, Jessica Beveridge
It's ironic that a terminal diagnosis can often result in the recipient getting a new lease of life. Knowing exactly how limited your time is can make you determined to embrace life and go out smiling. Conversely, the loved ones of such people often sink into depression, unable to adopt the positive outlook of the friend, lover or family member they're set to lose, forced to put on a brave face while dying a little themselves.
This dynamic fuels Mother of Flies, the latest from the cult filmmaking unit the Adams family. This time dad John Adams, mum Toby Poser and their daughter Zelda Adams all collaborate as writer/directors, along with playing the film's three leads. Zelda plays Mickey, a teenager whose cancer treatment has failed, resulting in her being given just a few months to live. When she learns of a woman, Solveig (Toby), who lives in the woods and claims to be able to cure any ailment, Zelda convinces her sceptical dad Jake (John) to accompany her for this unusual treatment. Jake assumes Solveig is a sham (though she's not expecting any form of payment for her services), but he goes along with it for the sake of Zelda, who is suddenly more optimistic than she's likely been for some time.
What Jake and Zelda don't initially realise is that Solveig is a centuries-old witch who plans to use Zelda as a vessel for some supernatural procedure. In flashbacks we see how Solveig drew the violent wrath of the local townsfolk after performing one of her special surgeries on a pregnant young woman, a mix of witchcraft and a backstreet abortion.
Mother of Flies is inspired by John and Toby's own experiences with cancer, and it's the family's most personal work to date. It often feels like we're watching these people act out conversations they've previously had in real life. Jake and Zelda have an unmistakable father/daughter chemistry, with dialogue exchanges of an intimate nature that most screenwriters wouldn't think to write, like an in-joke about Mickey "Jackson Pollocking" a diner toilet. In their previous films, the trio's performances have been slightly amateurish, but here all three have upped their game, with Zelda so impressive here that it wouldn't be a shock to see her receive offers to work away from her family. With her raven tresses and pale skin, Toby is ideally cast as a witch, and she brings a nuanced complexity to what might otherwise have been a one-note antagonist.
The script and Toby's performance keep us guessing as to Solveig's intentions towards Mickey, and whether they might be benevolent or malicious, or perhaps even a little of both. Solveig puts Mickey through a lot of physical pain, an allegory for real life cancer treatment with its requirement of faith and sacrifice in service of an uncertain outcome. Jake is put through the emotional wringer as he is forced to watch his daughter endure an ordeal that may prove futile, and in his face we see the torment of every parent who has had to watch their child undergo treatment.
Along with upping their acting game, the Adams have become more technically and artistically proficient. The cinematography by John and Zelda is highly impressive for such a low budget production, with a few compositions that are so striking I found myself hitting the pause button so I could take them in. Solveig's house, with the limbs of trees growing up through its floors as though the building is itself a living and breathing thing, is a marvel of production design. The Adams' regular collaborator Trey Lindsay provides some strikingly gruesome FX work, including an unsettling nightmare sequence involving a throbbing cancerous tumour that Cronenberg would be proud of. As usual, the soundtrack is provided by the family's musical project H6LLBND6R, and it's also their best work in this regard, heavy guitar riffs combining with (Zelda's?) sweet vocals in a manner that recalls the female-fronted grunge acts of the '90s.
Mother of Flies suffers from the occasional narrative contrivance, with one late character decision that seems implausible but is required for the sake of setting up the climax. The dialogue is a little rough around the edges in parts and Solveig's voiceover narration sounds a little too close to the sort of bad feminist beat poetry you might hear at an open mic night. But if you can follow the film's protagonists and put away your cynicism, this is a horror film that disturbs and comforts in equal measure. It's as moving an examination of terminal illness as you'll find in any genre.
Mother of Flies is on Shudder from January 23rd.
