Khushi Jain embraces the chaos of Four Mothers.
It was half past ten in the morning and there were nine people in the theatre when I went for the Dublin press screening of Darren Thornton’s Four Mothers. Greta Gerwig once said that 10am and 4pm are the best times to watch a movie; 10am because the day has just begun and you’ve already lived a whole other life, and 4pm because then you can go have dinner. It had been a few days since I had attended a morning screening, and Four Mothers was the most tender reminder of why I needed to change that and why Gerwig had said what she’d said.
Four Mothers is Thornton’s sophomore feature (after the 2016 A Date for Mad Mary), which premiered at the 2024 BFI London Film Festival (where it won the audience award), and was the closing gala of the 2025 Dublin International Film Festival. It is inspired by Gianni Di Gregorio’s 2008 Pranzo di ferragosto (Mid-August Lunch). It is a film about, well you guessed it right, four mothers. It is a film about growing old and seeing the ones we love grow old, literally and metaphorically. It is a film about writers who are great at writing and terrible at giving interviews. It is also a film about friends – friends who run off to Spain on an impromptu pride holiday and leave their mothers in your care, and friends that become friends when their sons run off to Spain on an impromptu pride holiday and leave them together.
Jean (Dearbhla Molloy), Maude (Stella McCusker) and Rosey (Paddy Glynn) are three elderly mothers left on Edward’s (James McArdle) doorstep by their sons who have gone to Spain for Maspalomas Pride. As if Edward’s plate wasn’t already full. A middle-aged Dublin-based writer, he is juggling press for his debut novel and writing his second novel while caring for his own mother, Alma (Fionnula Flanagan). And thanks to his friends, he is now stuck with four eccentric and wildly different ladies for a whole weekend.
Where the four mothers are stubborn and staunchly themselves, the one son is a sweetheart indulging all their whims. Jean is only interested in smoking fags and watching the telly (and also karaoke and alcohol). Maude attends the wakes of strangers and tries putting rosaries in their coffins (she is doing God’s work). Rosey spends her time video-calling her international boyfriend Amir and eating food that she is not supposed to eat. Alma relies on an iPad to communicate since she lost her voice after a stroke and likes getting her nails painted. She is very possessive about all her pillows and her son, who, she will have you know, is a very busy and very important author, and doesn’t have time to look after any more mothers. Edward is indeed a very busy man and has recently found literary success with his novel. But he is also a big softie.
Edward and Alma’s relationship is the epicentre of Four Mothers. In Alma’s second childhood, Edward is the parent taking care of her every need. The two share an incredible understanding with each other. Like Alma with her iPad, Edward has also lost his voice in a way. He hesitates, stutters and often says the wrong things in his PR interviews. As a result, their bond is less verbal and more physical. DOP Tom Comerford delicately captures their tactility as Edward slides Alma’s feet into her shoes and brushes her hair, and Alma holds his hand to show him that he is not alone. There is a third participant in Edward and Alma’s domesticity who is also connected with touch: Raf. Raf (Gaetan Garcia) is a physical therapist who comes for Alma and he is also Edward’s ex. This romantic history is only spelled out towards the end but through intelligent camerawork, character blocking, and Garcia and McArdle’s subtle performances, it is palpable on screen from the very start. Raf personifies a moment of serenity for both Edward and Alma as the chaos of the weekend (and life) unfolds around them.
And boy is it chaotic with a capital ‘C’. On the very first night of the ladies’ stay, a perplexed but kind Edward is running all over the house, listening to his mother demanding a return of her pillows, getting the spare mattress out because Jean thinks her mattress is too hard, saying ‘hi’ to Rosey’s online boyfriend and trying (really trying) to get Maude a glass of water. There are excursions to hospitals, the hairdresser’s, somebody’s funeral (we don’t know who, and Maude certainly doesn’t either), a pub in the middle of the night and even a road trip to a psychic medium all the way in Galway. The frenzy and babel that the ladies stir up is just the right amount of funny and frustrating thanks to Gary Dollner and Gretta Ohle’s clever editing. The writing is sharp and witty, with not a word out of place. Throughout it all, Edward is as patient as can be. He is, as I already said, a big softie, and cannot say no to any of the ladies’ requests. McArdle has an extremely warm presence and there is immense sincerity in his embodiment of Edward’s conflicts. It is a joy watching him be a doting son, semi-successful writer and bad interviewee.
McArdle’s chemistry with all of the mothers, but especially Flanagan, is like a comforting hug. Flanagan does not say a word and her movements are also quite restricted, yet she speaks volumes with just her gentle touches and piercing blue eyes. Molloy, McCusker and Glynn are memorable in their little eccentricities and the melancholy that comes with wrinkly old age. The mothers are very much your average Irish mammies, as grumpy and adamant as they are sweet and caring. An interesting choice that writers (and brothers) Darren and Colin made was to make all the sons in this film gay (we need more middle-aged gay men on screen!). This allowed them to explore the different experiences of the mothers. In a beautifully unpretentious scene on the trip to Galway, the four mothers share their sons’ coming-out stories. There is even a shot of Maude reading Gay Bar: Why We Went Out by Jeremy Atherton Lin while clutching the cross around her neck.
In all the complex themes that it dealt with (aging parents, loneliness, homosexuality), Four Mothers never lost its sensitivity. And this sensitivity was married to humour in the most wonderful way possible. As the film reached its final movement, unmade decisions were made, a loved one moved away and new friendships came into being. Off screen, in the dark solitude of the theatre, a few tears were shed. But when I walked out of the double doors into the light, I had a big smile on my face and was feeling some big feelings. I had just spent my morning watching an earnest and generous film, a film with a lot of heart.
In cinemas from 4th April 2025.
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