The Best Mother in the World

Anna Muylaert’s The Best Mother in the World was born out of the director’s traumatic memories of an abusive relationship and the image of a woman transporting her children in a cart—two real-life events that remind us of the brutality of the abuse that suffocates women across the globe every day and fills the pages of newspapers. Women’s liberation has not yet been achieved, and already history seems to be taking several steps backwards—what a pity.

The film opens with a black screen and the dry reading of a police report. We hear the word “next” and see the back of a Black woman’s head: it is Gal (Shirley Cruz), a victim of domestic violence and rape. When he drinks, Leandro (Seu Jorge) loses his temper and becomes the typical abuser who demands sex, by hook or by crook. One day, Gal reaches breaking point and goes to the police station determined to file a complaint, but the coldness of the bureaucracy shatters her reasoning. Faced with the weight of an irreversible accusation and the feelings that still bind her to that man, she eventually gives up on the official route and decides to do things her own way.

With hardly any money left, she is forced to come up with a rather crude plan: she packs a few belongings and her children into the cart she uses to collect rubbish for recycling and flees the house — but not before Anna Muylaert reveals that Leandro has a gun. The aim is to take refuge at her cousin Val’s (Luedji Luna) house in Itaquera, in the East Zone of São Paulo. Gal looks like a beast of burden, a mythological bull emerging from the depths of time. To reassure Rihanna and Benin, she tries to turn the ordeal into a fun adventure: a brief stop at the funfair—where the rollercoaster rides serve as a foreshadowing of what lies ahead—, camping in the open air, makeshift meals and even bathing in fountains. “Just like in the movies,” as the protagonist puts it.

On this little odyssey, Gal encounters everything from the genuine help of Munda (Rejane Faria)—who tells her about the squatters’ community, crucial to the plot—to the opportunism of Reginaldo (Lourenço Mutarelli)—the fatherly figure who gives her food and money, but who ultimately tries to demand sexual favours in return. After many mishaps, she and her children eventually arrive at her cousin’s house; however, it is clear that they are not safe there either. Val bombards her with the usual remarks: her husband cheats on her and she lets him get away with it; a woman has to put up with certain things, especially when she has children; it’s like that for everyone. The inevitability of submission in all its glory. Anivaldo (Rubens S. Santos) goes even further and warns Leandro, who turns up unannounced at a barbecue.

True to his role as a two-faced abuser, Leandro arrives all sweet and gentle, bearing flowers and gifts, an engagement ring and a marriage proposal. After a few drinks, however, he reverts to his old ways and, in a slip of the tongue, hints that Rihanna will be his next victim. Perhaps this is what makes Gal run away again—now without the cart, as Anivaldo has taken precautions and removed one of its tyres. Her despair is greater: for the first time, she cries and confesses to her children that the adventure was a lie, “nonsense”, but the children insist it was good and now they are the ones reviving the fantasy. When they hear gunshots, they realise it’s Corinthians match day and ask their mother to take them to the stadium, as she had promised at the start. She says, “Only if São Jorge appeared riding a white horse.” Anna Muylaert relents — and then a cart pulled by a white horse appears! The plot turns into a children’s tale: they set off down the road full of excitement and cheer wildly at the stadium. In the end, however, when the cart turns back into a pumpkin, Gal has to make a decision: she blocks Leandro’s number—an easy gesture that won’t stop the abuser from stalking her—and seeks Munda’s help.

In the squatters’ community, she finally finds a place to live with some dignity and protection until she gets her life sorted out—something that neither the state nor her family had been able to provide. Perhaps because she feels safe, Rihanna confesses to her that she was afraid of Leandro and tells her she is the best mother in the world. The film’s final words perfectly sum up the moralistic tone of the narrative. Gal smiles for the first time and turns away from the camera. The film ends there, with a postcard-like shot featuring a full moon in the background and Gal once again with her back to the camera. A small, forced glimmer of hope.

In her eagerness to get a message across, Anna Muylaert resorts to stereotypes and clichés that undermine the cinematic experience: it is all far too predictable and lacking in substance. Despite its good intentions, the blend of the harsh realism of the situation and the fable Gal invents to protect her children also falls flat—the plot is so keen to shed light on a terrible problem of our times that it becomes flimsy and always falls short, as demonstrated by that cheap ending: happy, but far too rushed and utterly implausible. Another problem with The Best Mother in the World is the lack of distance: the camera is too close to Gal, barely giving us the space needed to see what is happening; it feels more like a simplistic TV report that fizzles out without leaving any impact. There is no room for cinema, which means there is no room for mystery or reflection. We are left with a few images of Shirley Cruz, waiting for another struggle with more depth.