There
were fears this hokey adoption-from-hell chiller might be more damaging to
Jessica Chastain’s Oscar prospects than any of Zero Dark Thirty’s
controversies, but let’s be forgiving: it’s exactly the type of project an
up-and-coming actress might take in a bid to prove her range. Stuck with an
unflattering black crop and bad tattoos, she’s playing Annabel, a rock
guitarist whose hunky beau (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) elects to take in two young
nieces after their father’s sudden disappearance. A commendably mature move –
except that these skittering foundlings have fallen under the protective spirit
of a murderess helpfully referred to as “Mad” Edith.
As
Guillermo del Toro’s semi-meaningless executive producer credit suggests, Mama clearly wants to import the
restrained seriousness of recent Spanish-language horror smashes for
subtitle-resistant audiences. Yet while its finale gestures in the direction of
something emotional, getting there involves mucho
familiar multiplex filler: loud screeches atop the soundtrack, and some pretty
silly business involving the girls’ sinister way with wax crayons. Chastain
hints at a toughness that isn’t a thousand miles away from her Oscar role, but
her smarts are wasted on a largely reactive character. Not embarrassing, just
terribly ordinary.
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