Actors Jemima Rooper and Kate Dickie are having the time of their lives in writer and director Ben Steiner’s Matriarch. The pair play mother and daughter Celia (Dickie) and Laura (Rooper). Laura has a high-profile job in the city, Though she works hard, she plays even harder and is a barely functioning bulimic, alcoholic, and coke addict. Laura’s issues all seem to stem from her upbringing and fraught relationship with her mother, Celia. Having cut Celia out of her life two decades prior, Laura is shocked to receive a call from her at work. The call throws Laura into a tailspin, ultimately leading to an overdose. In the wake of her ordeal, Laura determines the only way to be rid of her demons is to face them head on.
Upon arrival back home she is greeted by her mother, who seems to have not aged a day. Whilst on the surface Celia looks the same, her behaviour is at odds with Laura’s memories of her. The cold and emotionless woman in her mind is presenting herself as warm and affectionate. It’s not a hundred percent convincing, but the change in attitude at all is a shock to Laura. Whilst Laura and Celia try to navigate years of distance, both women begin suffering from a strange and bloody ailment. As Laura begins to explore her former hometown she finds that nothing is as she remembers, then the reveal of a disturbing town secret changes everything…
Matriarch is a brilliant take on the folk horror format. Set in the rural countryside of Britain, Steiner’s film is a fun and thrilling mystery. Falling somewhere between The Wicker Man and Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Matriarch is a puzzle box of entertainment. The village setting is an accurate portrayal of the country’s rural areas. It’s not the typical overly dressed up and romanticised version that most films run to. Instead, it’s all a bit dull and overgrown, cluttered with pockets of litter and decay, and very, very muddy. Its lack of classical beauty befits the story, acting as an early indicator that all is not well with Laura’s birthplace.
Steiner imbues Matriarch with elements of both comedy and horror. Despite this, Matriarch can’t really be called a horror comedy, black comedy, or similar, and yet it is both a horror and comedy film. Rather than stray into one more than the other, Steiner deftly balances the two conflicting tones. The comedy is funny and the horror is scary, and yet both elements simply co-exist with the other. There’s no crossing of the streams, and they just happen around one another. In many ways it reflects real life; it’s neither pure comedy or horror, our day-to-day life offering potential to become either at any moment. Steiner taps into this and feeds it into the fabric of Matriarch and though not easily categorised, it becomes a very entertaining watch. The humour primarily lies within the dialogue. Several lines are set to become classics, the final line especially so.
What really helps sell these contrasting tones are the performances of both Jemima Rooper and Kate Dickie. Dickie is always a reliable hire, committing to each and every role she plays no matter how small. In Matriarch she is the titular mother figure, and Celia seems like a character that Dickie was destined to play. She is exceptional in the role, both terribly cold and emotionless, and filled with incredible rage. Matriarch also allows Dickie to stretch her comedic muscles; the actor has wonderful comedy timing. As Laura, Rooper has a lot of complex emotions to sift through. Of the two characters, her opportunity for comedy is less readily available. Laura is on an emotional rollercoaster from the moment she is introduced and Rooper handles the weight of this with finesse. Though she might not get to have as much gleeful fun as Dickie, there are still opportunities, and Rooper commits to them with gusto, providing the bulk of the memorable dialogue.
When on-screen together – which is most of the time – Rooper and Dicke sizzle. The two actors have amazing chemistry together and their interpretation of this strained relationship is overwhelmingly solid. Despite the more chucklesome moments, Matriarch has a lot of darkness, most of which rests within their dynamic. In less talented hands this dynamic could become very silly, but the two women hold it together and create a relationship that the audience wants to sink their teeth into. The final third puts into practise everything that has been building up previously, and once the floodgates are opened, Matriarch gets wild and weird. A tonal juggling act played to perfection, Matriarch is an excellent blend of comedy and horror, offering one heck of a viewing experience.
Matriarch
Summary
Two iron-clad central performances combine with Steiner’s insane script to create a film that amuses and scares in equal measure right from minute one.
Matriarch was reviewed at Celluloid Screams 2022.
