‘Mother’s Baby’ Review: Marie Leuenberger Is a Powerhouse in a Gripping Maternity Drama That Entertains Even as It Goes Off the Rails

Recently, there seems to be an increase in films exploring maternal anxiety. The latest addition is “Mother’s Baby”, following the footsteps of “Nightbitch” and “If I Had Legs I’d Kick You”. Starring Marie Leuenberger, this psychological thriller by Johanna Moder keeps audiences guessing about whether Julia’s post-partum depression or something truly sinister about her baby is causing her paranoia. The film maintains a strong sense of mystery as to whether the private fertility clinic where she gave birth may have swapped her child. However, the plot starts to falter when it begins to offer solutions instead of keeping the suspense alive.

The movie sometimes hints at turning into a horror genre but hesitates, making the shift too late in the plot which seems rather absurd. Writers Moder and Arne Kohlweyer fail to fully commit to this change. Furthermore, the unexpected ending might have been more shocking if it wasn’t so predictable due to its frequent foreshadowing. Despite these flaws, Mother’s Baby is intriguing, unsettling, and filled with dark humor. It kept me engaged throughout, even during its most unconventional moments.

In addition to Leuenberger’s convincing portrayal of the accomplished classical orchestra conductor Julia, reminiscent of Lydia Tár during pregnancy, the film skillfully employs Claes Bang as Dr. Vilfort, a leading figure at the luxurious yet enigmatic Lumen Vitae clinic.

As the medic welcomes Julia and her husband Georg (Hans Löw), he exudes confidence, assuring them that the center employs cutting-edge research and boasts an exceptional success rate. He is confident that a single treatment will help Julia conceive, despite the fact that they have presumably explored other options before investing in Lumen Vitae.

Through subtle gestures and faint changes in his facial expressions, Bang hints that Dr. Vilfort might not be as compassionate or miraculous as he seems with his soothing voice and pristine white lab coat. The eerie presence of pets in films often indicates a warning sign, and this doctor has an office aquarium housing an axolotl – a cannibalistic Mexican salamander capable of regenerating lost limbs. In terms of appeal, it’s the bald cat among amphibians, and if you’re considering stem cells, you might be on the right track.

As expected, Julia manages to conceive on her first attempt and sails through her pregnancy without a hitch. However, when labor begins, things take a dramatic turn for the worse. One of the most gripping childbirth scenes in recent times unfolds — those with a weak stomach might want to look away — as Julia grows increasingly distressed as more and more nurses seem to appear, frantically altering the delivery plan. Robert Oberrainer’s camera orbits around the delivery table, heightening the feeling that something catastrophic is occurring.

Upon the arrival of the newborn baby boy, he remained silent and was swiftly escorted away by Dr. Vilfort and midwife Gerlinde (Julia Franz Richter), denying Julia the opportunity to witness or cradle him first. The distraught parents were left in a state of suspense for what felt like an eternity, until Vilfort returned with news that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around the baby’s neck and, due to a lack of oxygen, he was transferred to the neonatal ward at the general hospital. Vilfort reassured them that everything would turn out alright.

However, upon Vilfort’s return the next day with their child, Julia exhibits distress, examining the infant warily as her apprehension intensifies into a panic attack. Initially struggling with breastfeeding, this leads Gerlinde to suggest using formula instead, going against the common advice from midwives to stick with breast milk. Furthermore, Julia’s repeated reference to the baby as “it” suggests that the formation of a maternal bond may take more time than usual.

Once Julia and Georg bring their child home, Moder starts subtly messing around with the situation. Julia hasn’t decided on a permanent name yet, so they temporarily label their son Adrian, which is reminiscent of a character’s name from a specific Polanski movie featuring Mia Farrow.

Adrian appears to be far from typical and may not fit the description of the Antichrist, yet he exhibits peculiar behavior such as sleeping undisturbed by intense noise, maintaining an expression that suggests emptiness in his gaze, and rarely shedding tears, even when Julia neglects feeding him for a prolonged period while engrossed in her Schubert concert preparations.

As a gamer, I can’t help but be captivated by Leuenberger’s mesmerizing performance in those tense moments, managing to embody an unhinged character without compromising Julia’s logical mindset. There’s a surprisingly amusing twist when a mother, in a moment of playful desperation, delivers a sudden, forceful squeeze to a toy right beside a baby’s ear – just to elicit a response.

When she intensely plays the violin or cranks up the volume excessively on stormy classical pieces, Georg questions her mental balance. “You asked for a child,” he yells at her. “Yes, but not this unconventional one,” she responds. The script also explores the sense of identity loss that can come with motherhood by depicting Julia becoming enraged over changes to the orchestra’s season program without her input.

Julia’s growing unease, gradually intensified by Leuenberger to a thunderous climax like the crash of cymbals, is not eased by unexpected visits from Gerlinde, who appears to be more bonded with Adrian than his mother. When the midwife advises Julia that it’s risky to leave the baby alone on a changing table, it’s predictable that an alarming accident will occur. Gerlinde presents a gift from the doctor – a fish tank containing an axolotl – which annoyed Julia but seemed cute enough for Georg to decide to get a pet for it. This was a poor choice.

With tension between Julia and Georg escalating, Georg departs, taking their baby to his mother’s home for rest and recovery. Yet, as Julia becomes increasingly determined to uncover the truth, she grows more desperate when she hears ambiguous tales of other mothers encountering difficulties at Lumen Vitae. To make matters worse, she is informed by the neonatal ward that there’s no documentation of her child’s birth.

In one of the most spine-tingling moments, I found myself ushered into Dr. Vilfort’s office, barred from entering the clinic’s medical labs. With a cool grin on his face and a steady voice, he laid out the potential consequences if I were labeled as insane – lost custody battles and my career in shambles.

In my opinion as a gamer, Moder and Kohlweyer raise some compelling arguments about the dismissal of women’s fears as mental health issues. However, the transition from psychodrama to full-blown maternal horror tale feels sudden and unrealistic, even if it offers a hefty dose of unsettling thrills. The authenticity of Julia’s bizarre revelations is questionable, and the movie could have been more effective had it delved deeper into the mystery earlier on.

Despite its somewhat uncomfortable blend of serious drama and horror, there’s still a lot to appreciate in this production. This ranges from the exceptional acting to the powerful employment of music, as well as Oberrainer’s striking, sharply defined wide-angle shots. As the story progresses towards its darker, more sinister conclusion in the final act, these images grow increasingly murky and purplish.

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2025-02-21 02:55