Film Review - Mother And Son (2022)

It’s a new start. Rose and her two young sons, Jean and Ernest, have travelled from the Ivory Coast to in search of a better life. But for the impulsive young woman and her boys, it’s the first of many new starts, ones that become increasingly dramatic, dividing them as a family rather than bringing them together.

Rose (Annabelle Lengronne) isn’t short on ambition for her sons. In Paris, she takes various low paid jobs to raise the two and encourages them to work hard at school so they can be accepted in their new home country. She has two more, older boys, who have stayed behind in Ivory Coast, something that’s only occasionally mentioned but which was clearly a difficult decision. In what is essentially a family chronicle, we follow them over 20 years: Rose moves from one fling to another, until eventually settling for a quieter life with a long-term suitor, while the boys get used to living in a variety of apartments – some pleasant, some otherwise – but as they mature, their lives take very different paths. And what’s taken them in those directions is the same for both of them. Their mother.

An immigrant story at its heart, Mother And Son hardly touches on the journey from one country to another – the young Jean is fascinated by planes and wants to be a pilot when he grows up, but that’s about it. Instead, it tells a more intimate story with a universal relevance, one that paints its portrait of fractured family life in a semi-documentary style but with feeling and comion. Potentially, that leaves director Leonor Seraille open to the criticism of “nothing happens” and, indeed, there are times when the story, such as it is, feels like it’s on hold. But it’s for a good reason. This allows us to into the characters’ world on a more profound level as we watch small, ordinary moments full of affection and significance.

While Rose is the focus of the first chapter, the spotlight shifts in the central section to the older son, Jean, as the fissure in the family starts as a crack but soon widens. Increasingly left to his own devices, he drops school work and his world soon starts to unravel, even though little brother Ernest still idolises him. And, by the time we reach the final episode, Ernest is now a teacher – not that it prevents him being stopped on the street to be ID checked by a pair of aggressive cops – whose with his mother is tenuous, while Jean’s only presence is through a solitary letter asking for money. It’s not as mercenary as it sounds. The connection between the two boys is still there: as he observes “it’s no small thing, a little brother.” The film’s French title, Un Petit Frere, is perhaps closer to the film’s essence than the English version.

Seraille’s naturalistic approach allows Lengronne full rein to make Rose a genuine force of nature, somebody who tries her best, is full of ambition but struggles to turn it into reality, either for her or her children. We see her through the eyes of both boys at different stages of their maturity, a critical gaze but one that also shows much of the realities she has to cope with aren’t always of her making or under her control. Her sons grow up before our eyes, trying to find their places in their individual worlds but realising the footing is unsteady – just as it is at home. There’s tears, there’s happiness, but don’t expect sentiment or neat resolutions. This is a story without end.