Labours of love and sorcery in Mother Tongue (2023, review)

Mother Tongue (2023)

Dir. Glenn Fraser. Written by Amelia Foxton

Starring Amelia Foxton, Chiara Gizzi, and Stephen Hunter

Director of Photography: Tom Gleeson

Running time: 36 mins

Horror and humour achieve embryonic fusion in Australian director Glenn Fraser’s latest short film, Mother Tongue, written with wit and energy by Amelia Foxton. Alex (Chiara Gizzi) and Jade (Foxton) know all about parenthood from their hetero friends, who visit them only to sit slumped, exhausted—seemingly exsanguinated—by the ordeal. But this cutely clucky same-sex couple aren’t so easily put off. After repeated and steamily determined attempts at impregnation, however, they still don’t have a baby bump between them. Adoption holds no help, as the couple finds its woes compounded by process thick with prejudice.

They explore alternative options, but just how ‘alternative’ will they get? Enter Brian (Stephen Hunter), the black magic sorcerer who promises he can conjure these two a kid. He’s also a try-hard deadshit operating out of an unassuming beige-brick flat. From here, Alex and Jade find themselves entangled in the increasingly wacky world of the suburban occult because, surprise surprise, Brian may be less useless than he appears. Maybe this will work after all? However, we know from the film’s opening—from Jade and Alex’s friends—how enslaved parents are to their infant overlords, and there may be even greater sacrifices in store for this couple.

Fraser and Foxton’s film pulses along through its inspired and knowing embrace of horror tropes—here delightfully embedded in everyday domesticity. Involving and often very fun performances draw much richness from the full veins of Foxton’s script and, despite the film’s short running time, its characters are vividly drawn, with Alex the more reactive and intense of the duo, alongside the more patient and protective Jade, who finally accepts her partner’s pleas to explore every last option. The film also looks splendid, easily immersing us in atmospheres by turns erotic, alarming, and absurd. Parenthood sure seems draining, but you’ll be tickled and fulfilled by Mother Tongue.

Quatermass and the Pit (1967, review)

pit_7QUATERMASS AND THE PIT (1967)

Hammer’s sequel to Quatermass 2 (1957) earns most of its stars through a warped and imaginative conclusion; the closing scenes of this wordy film demonstrate surprisingly eerie imagination—finally showing us something wordlessly (and exquisitely) weird.

But before that: Professor Bernard Quatermass (Andrew Keir) is summoned to help investigate a mysterious metallic shell uncovered during tunnel repairs to the London Underground. He extracts from within some big crusty bugs—perfectly preserved fossils—that he deduces are ancient Martians. Naturally the authorities won’t have a bar of it, and hinder his every step. Meanwhile the craft itself begins acting up, hurtling nearby objects and inducing madness in a few of its meddlers.

Diverging from iconic Hammer fare in its modern, urban setting, the film is a rather low on atmosphere early on, focusing primary on the Professor’s inquiries being stymied by obnoxious officials. Given the innovative Underground setting, one thinks of the missed opportunity to play on this more fully (perhaps using a few haunted-house conventions to evoke a uniquely urban sense of the uncanny). Moreover, the earliest strange happenings (objects levitating near the craft) are disappointingly explicable—by visible wires.Quatermass-6

The pace quickens after the plot has been rather exhaustively unpacked (an explanation involving local legends, ancestral memories, psychic powers and alien ethnic-cleansing). Then we get what we’ve surely been waiting for all along: quakes and chaos emanating from the Underground to threaten busy London above. Most effective is the film’s attribution of a sense of the ‘demonic’ to its ultimately extra-terrestrial menace.  Once this note is resoundingly struck, the technical mumbo-jumbo of science-fiction seems left behind, allowing us to be held and haunted by the film’s final spectacles of terror.  3.5 / 5