You Are Not My Mother Review: Irish Folklore Horror Sends a Mixed Message

It’s often said that every story has been told before. This would seem to especially apply to the horror genre, where the pleasures of convention are frequently the selling point and each passing trend becomes a blueprint for countless imitations. Even the so-called “elevated horror” film, which once aimed to break free from tired genre tropes by rooting its horror in real-world forebodings, has ossified itself into cliché. Kate Dolan’s You Are Not My Mother is a case a point, as the primacy that it places on its dopamine drip of dread undercuts whatever genuine commitment it might have toward mental illness and trauma.

The film centers on a teenage girl, Char (Hazel Doupe), who lives with her mentally ill single mother, Angela (Carolyn Bracken), and aloof “Gran” (Ingrid Craigie). A bright student, the lonely Char is left to fend for herself against constant bullying at school and the largely bedridden Angela’s alarming mood swings. This all comes to a head when Angela goes missing after dropping Char off at school and cryptically mumbling, “I can’t do this anymore.”

The woman’s disappearance sends everyone into a panic, but then she returns and Char is relieved to see that her mother is noticeably cheerier and more energetic. Angela even starts taking the initiative to make dinners and spontaneously breaks out in joyous dance to songs playing over the radio. But things quickly take a turn from the weird to the sinister after Char catches Angela skulking around dead-eyed and zombie-like and doing odd things like, you know, sticking her whole forearm down her throat to induce a vomiting fit.

This setup, then, is strictly in line with any number of possession stories, though Dolan’s specificity of place helps to distinguish You Are Not My Mother. The film is set in a downtrodden North Dublin housing estate and Irish folklore plays a significant part in the narrative. Gran in particular is invested in the spooky legend tied to her town, one that springs out of the neighborhood’s construction on top of a possibly haunted bogland.

For all of the film’s hinting at a potentially rich mythology, none of it is especially resonant, which is odd considering that this is a story about an evil Irish faerie having possibly taken over a woman’s body. This is largely due to the fact that anything of interest here has already taken place, and is explained in long expositional speeches from Gran that detail how her family has grappled with similar demons in the past. And what we actually get to see throughout You Are Not My Mother is your run-of-the-mill procession of generically moody fear tactics, doled out in such rhythmic fashion that they barely raise a pulse.

The film, though, ultimately has loftier goals in mind—namely, exploring the trials of dealing with a family member with mental illness. But since we only get the tiniest glimpse into Char’s home life before Angela goes missing and the supernatural shenanigans start ramping up, You Are Not My Mother’s allegorical aspirations remain vague at best. Dolan may want to suggest that the horrors of mental illness are akin to that of demonic possession, but by quickly forgoing any real ambiguity and leaning wholesale into the supernatural, she only ends up further othering the very people who actually grapple with these disorders everyday.