Perhaps the most absorbing (if not exactly the deepest) of the quartet of stories stars Lindsay Burdge as a rash, well-heeled conservative mom named Ruth. Her segment spreads its chips across a variety of hot-button social and political topics of our time, giving us a 101-level rundown of everything—from police brutality and BLM to the so-called cancel culture supposedly enabled by group-thinking mobs. Finding that her detached son Jared (Jake Katzman) got suspended from his school due his bigotry-fueled actions, Ruth questions her motherhood and enlists her liberal brother Gabe (Rory Culkin, absolutely terrific) to get the full story out of Jared. (The irritatingly entitled kid insists he can’t remember a thing.) What follows is an explosive scene set around a dinner table, where Ruth and her husband (Michael Chernus) disseminate their toxic views onto Gabe, who patiently—and with proof—disproves them all in front of a trio that have no use for facts.
The final installment is easily the most significant of “Materna,” with Abdullina in the lead as Perizad, a Kyrgyz woman who goes back to her motherland once her father unexpectedly and tragically passes. Here, the writers actually seem like they have something meaningful to say about three generations of women—Perizad’s mother and grandmother are poetically played by Zhamilya Sydykbaeva and the late Jamal Seidakmatova—all confronted by ghosts of the past while trying to move through their respective griefs in their own ways. This is a soulful, quiet, and very welcome diversion in an otherwise loud movie; a rich, lush oasis that begs for more screen time.
Also an editor by trade (though those duties are not handled by him here), Gutnik toggles between these four interludes a bit haphazardly, trying to arbitrarily connect them with scenes of the rattling NYC train and the occurrence that unfolds within it. The result is less an Alejandro Iñárritu-style collection of interwoven connections, and more something that feels way too happenstantial. After a certain point, the constant tease underground becomes repetitive (despite a strong vintage feel of the cinematography in these scenes), restricting the impact of the reveal in the end. But perhaps more problematically, what “Materna” tries to say on race, class, culture, and society remains all too vague and surface-level in the aftermath. The strongest point Gutnik makes with his film is that we all have a concealed story when we share common spaces in silence. But that sadly isn’t enough of a hook to carry out this scattershot effort.
Now playing in select theaters and available on digital platforms and VOD on August 10.
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