There is always value in reverence – certain public figures attain such an enormous degree of popularity and adoration, that their name becomes synonymous with a certain quality, and any attempt to even vaguely question them or slightly move the discussion away from the preconceived points that have defined their reputation is seek as close to sacrilege, which is exactly what we find populates a lot of discourse when looking at these cherished historical figures. This is the case for someone like Mother Teresa, the Albanian nun who spent most of the 20th century in India, where she cared for the sick and impoverished, becoming a global icon of charity, compassion and deep, unfailing empathy. However, as is often the case with someone hailed as a saint (a literal title she holds in this instance), attempting to highlight that she was just an ordinary woman at heart is sometimes cause for a lot of controversy. This is where Teona Strugar Mitevska begins her discussion on Mother Teresa, which comes in the form of the aptly-titled Mother, a very unconventional biographical account of the iconic figure during her earlier years, before her ascent to becoming a global icon, an individual who not only become a landmark of the Catholic Church, but a beloved figure that touched the lives of many. Set in the first few years of her tenure as Mother Superior in a convent she ruled with an iron fist while still trying to embody the spirit of compassion, the film follows her as she gradually begins to see that there is more to life than just following the doctrine, and that to create genuine change, more needs to be done on both a human and societal level. It’s a fascinating character study with some very bold ideas and a few elements that may be somewhat questionable in theory, but serve a vital purpose in the construction of this challenging and unconventional film.

As is often the case with unorthodox biographical films, we find that Mother is less a film about paying reverence and more about trying to unsettle preconceived notions in favour of something deeper and much more profound. One of the reasons we have not seen too many films based around Mother Teresa’s life is primarily because they tend to be made by people too afraid to question her legacy – even those who are completely reverent to her ideology or life’s work need to be able to realise that she was just a human, someone who was as elevated by her merits as she was weighed down by her flaws. Strugar Mitevska is fascinated by her as a character and builds the film around investigating Mother Teresa and much more than just the saintly, perfect figure of compassion and grace that she has been painted as for over half a century. In doing so, the director takes on quite a challenge, since she is also not interested in being critical to the point where the film becomes disrespectful. Strugar Mitevska walks a very narrow, tightrope in terms of perspective, and constantly refers back to the central thesis statement of the film: make a more varied, complex portrait that looks beyond the iconography and grounds Mother Teresa as more than just the face of the Catholic Church, but a complicated individual in her own right. There are many moments in which Mother is ambiguous in terms of what it intends to convey with the protagonist and her journey – and its in this vague, aloof approach that we find the director adding some fascinating insights, crafting a film that is complex, engaging and frequently critical in a way that is never anything short of enthralling, even when it can sometimes feel like it doesn’t know exactly what it intends to portray when discussing Mother Teresa as both a cultural figure and a deeply human individual.

Throughout this film, the director is actively refusing to follow a traditional approach to filmmaking – the structure is relatively conventional, insofar as it does take place relatively chronologically (although the way it delivers the timeline is very interesting), which means that a lot of the innovation comes in the creative flourishes that Strugar Mivetska employs to bring these ideas to life. At the very core of Mother, we find a film that has no interest in reverence – it presents Mother Teresa as an imperfect woman who still managed to make a difference despite her clear faults, which is much more respectful than a depiction that attempts to convey her as some flawless individual that never struggled with her own internal battles that would lead someone to seek out a life of service. These ideas are reflected quite well in the film, often in how the message is delivered – the tone is simple but evocative, existing somewhere between realist drama and surreal dark comedy, with the touches of hysteria and excess being quite creative and leading to a film that knows exactly what it wants to achieve, even if it is still figuring out the precise way to execute these ideas, understanding that the journey is often more interesting than the destination. Some choices are beyond ambitious, some entirely inexplicable (such as a dream sequence set to Lordi’s “Hard Rock Hallelujah”, a song situated so far out of Mother Teresa’s life, both geographically and in terms of chronology that we cannot understand its usage – even when it is extremely effective), but they all become part of the delightfully deranged experience that comes with trying to understand and comprehend the swarm of audacious ideas that encircled this film from the start, even if it is designed to be a lot more challenging than we’d expect.

The task of playing Mother Teresa is certainly no easy request for any actor, especially considering Mother is set during her formative years, before she was the gentle, sage older woman whose kind, empathetic face has become one of the most iconic images of the 20th century. It required an actor with the bravery to play someone so notable in a way that her flaws are equally present as her merits – and there are few performers more fearless than Noomi Rapace, who commits wholeheartedly to every aspect of this character. Her approach is to focus on the subtle, most sincere cues – Teresa is not supposed to be a hysterical, melodramatic character, but rather someone whose wisdom was present from the start, it was only concealed behind layers of sternness and commitment to dogma earlier on in her life. Rapace is wonderful, taking every challenge thrown at her by the director in stride, and finding some exceptionally exciting ways to make the character her own. She’s paired with some very good actors, the most notable of them being Sylvia Hoeks, whose performance as Sister Agnieszka adds many layers to a film that only benefits from her extraordinary commitment to playing someone who teeters dangerously close on a complete collapse throughout, becoming the person who inadvertently makes Teresa realise that her path in life is not to uphold outdated religious laws, but rather use faith as a starting-point for a life filled with compassion. It’s a strong cast, and all of the actors (even those that only appear for a scene or two) bring the film to life in a way that is genuinely very moving, while also resisting conventions wherever possible, allowing Mother to be a much stronger and nuanced film in the process.

Any criticism that Mother is disrespectful or one-dimensional in a way that is designed to inspire hatred in the audience towards its protagonist is beyond shallow – admiring a figure entails more than just embracing the public persona, but also acknowledging their imperfections and attempting to see the extent to which they were able to overcome these challenges to become the people we adore and respect today. It’s a film that challenges in smart, insightful ways – its not interested in following conventions, and actively seems to be creating a narrative that is quieter, more simple and far more engaging than we may expect at a cursory glance – its certainly unconventional as far as biographical dramas go, with the occasional moment of misplaced humour or jarring directorial choice being features rather than shortcomings. It’s an ambitious work, and perhaps the only example of an effective biographical drama about Mother Teresa, solely because it is entirely aware of its inability to condense everything into a single narrative, and simply sits with the themes in a way that is quietly moving and deeply compelling, while also being exceptionally challenging at the same time. Quiet and meditative, but with a complexity that makes it far more enticing than anyone could have imagined based on the subject matter. It’s a film that doesn’t play by the rules and relishes in its ability to be different, even at its most intentional.