The title comes from well-taught Islamic hadith, in which a man asked Muhammad who was most deserving of “good treatment,” to which the Prophet answered, “Your mother.” Two more times was the Prophet asked this question, and to both he repeated, “Your mother.” That’s not the end of the parable, of course, because as we recall from the old rule of threes, the fourth time must feature some variation or an entirely different answer—one which, in its own way by the end, Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother provides.
The first thing to know about writer/director Bassam Tariq’s film is that this is a hypnotic action/thriller hybrid that absolutely works as one, starring Mahershala Ali as a devout Muslim, a devoted family and a trained, merciless killer-for-hire whose latest job threatens to the end of all things for him. That, broadly speaking, is a familiar concept, and even the casting of Ali isn’t entirely out of left field, given his muscular features and something in his eyes that one just knows could flicker between compassion and coldness. The trajectory of the plot, too, is a journey with an almost Biblical (or maybe that’s biblical, non-capitalized) quality, as this man seeks something vital and keeps coming up against some opposing force that seeks his death.
In the fundamental ways, then, the movie might be familiar, but in the specifics, this is a film that constantly surprises, not least in the layers of depth to be found in this genuinely unique protagonist. He’s Latif, played by a superb Ali as a man with as many secrets as virtues and as much love to give as brutality to dole out in the proper context. For Latif, the only two things that really matter are the contracts he carries out on behalf of a security specialist named Mike (Laith Nakli) and the children he has fathered with a wife who, as the film begins, dies without warning or any way of preparing her loved ones.
Now, there is business to be done in the wake of her death—not the official kind, either, though contracts do still come through Mike, who also seems to be operating on behalf of someone else. No, the more pressing matter is that, within weeks of his wife’s death, the supply of her breast milk is running low, and because their new infant is allergic to formula, that means needing to find the real thing. Suppliers need a doctor’s prescription, and the punishing operational hours for such a task are almost more than any newly widowed father can handle.
Add on to this, of course, that Mike has set a ticking clock on Latif’s newest target—an anti-Arab religious zealot, played by John Cho, who has his own plans for the mosques around Houston, Texas, where this film is set—and one sort of understands the pressure of a constantly unnerved existence like how Latif lives. He seeks counsel with his imam (played by Giancarlo Esposito), handles his other two children (played by Adia and Jahleel Kamara), and ultimately seeks the help of a local sex worker named Fugazi (Tiffany Boone) who might be able to provide the baby some sustenance in the short term. He must also kill the zealot, who has targeted social media influencer Hatty (Abubakr Ali) for the alleged human trafficking ring he’s hiding behind a porn empire.
The movie is a thriller, as it might sound, and one defined by as much grit as poetry, because the ultimate meaning behind this story resides in Latif’s deeply held desire to escape his life spent killing at the behest of man and start serving in the name of Allah. Tariq’s film is about how truly impossible this is if he is to retain any sort of livable scenario with his children, as all of them are under threat from some outside force at any given moment. The zealot offers his own challenge, of course, having drawn some followers into his web and armed them against the apocalyptic conflict that he has warned against.
In fact, we learn just how racist, just how ruthless and just how brutal this man and his congregation are willing to be by the time the movie arrives at its climax, which does admittedly adhere to the slightly predictable formula of inspiring Latif to see through the vengeful part of his character. That obviously involves some acts of violence that hit close to home, as well as a final confrontation that gives Ali the chance to prove his mettle as an actor of convincing physicality. What happens offers just as much underneath all this as on the surface of it, though, which means that the inevitability is part of the point.
After all, this man cannot escape his life, and this climax also comes after a betrayal only leads to even more violence and desperation on the road to finding some way of feeding his infant child. That sobering truth drives so much about this plot that it is every bit as inescapable for us, and it means that a shock of fragile humanity courses underneath the gritty surface of Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother, which returns to answer that fourth repetition of the question in a manner that lingers long after a most suggestive final shot.
Rating: ***½ (out of ****)
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