Parenthood is the greatest gift any of us could be afforded – whether we look at it from the perspective of the parent or the child, the relationship that is formed from birth is always worth exploring, especially when it comes to understanding the iron-clad bond that develops over time. However, there comes a time when every child has to fly the coop (whether physically or emotionally), which can leave quite a gap in the lives of both parties. Stories of the relationship between parents and their adult children are quite rare, primarily because there aren’t many opportunities to effectively explore the dynamic – everyone involved is independent and doesn’t need to rely on the other in the traditional way, which means that it can sometimes be slightly challenging to understand precisely where to draw the line. However, when a film comes along that touches on this topic, it can be incredibly captivating, as we see in the case of The Meddler, the second directorial outing by Lorene Scafaria, who tells the story of Marnie, a recently-widowed housewife from New Jersey who decides to move to Los Angeles to be closer to her daughter. However, the problem is that Lori is now a marginally successful screenwriter, and has recently sold a script to a network for a sitcom that is actively being developed – and this stressful situation is only made worse by the presence of her overbearing mother, whose good intentions are rarely welcome, leading to Lori establishing some boundaries, which comes as quite a shock to the oblivious Marnie, who was not aware that her actions were such a burden. A wonderfully funny, heartfelt blend of comedy and drama, The Meddler is a wholeheartedly delightful romp through the trials and tribulations of a woman trying to connect with her daughter, but unintentionally propelling herself on a journey of self-discovery in the process.

There are a couple of core themes that make up the centre of The Meddler, which is marketed as an exuberant, upbeat comedy about an overbearing mother discovering that her daughter does not need her as much as she did before, but comes to grow into a maternal figure for a range of other people who do need someone like her in their lives. Motherhood is a fascinating theme, and something that we’ve seen explored extensively in every conceivable medium, yet it feels as if we’ve barely scratched the surface in terms of understanding precisely what it is that draws us to these stories. To momentarily look at the philosophical underpinnings of art, we find that (regardless of our own personal relationships with our mothers), we are all drawn to stories about maternal figures in some way or another – the concept of a matriarch, someone who both protects and nurtures, is a timeless story, and while she is far from the most dedicated authority to the subject, Scafaria has nonetheless struck quite a chord when it came to examining this concept in The Meddler, which is built around the idea of a woman who realises that she is no longer needed as she was before, but which does not necessarily invalidate her skills or willingness to provide for anyone who needs her help, and instead goes on her own personal journey in which she unofficially adopts half a dozen people, taking them under her wing and giving them all an equal share of the seemingly endless supply of love that she has to give. Its a gloriously life-affirming concept, and one that the director very carefully crafts in a way that is earnest but never intentionally cliched, focusing on the trials and tribulations of the titular character as she “meddles” in the lives of others, going from a well-meaning nuisance to an essential part of all of their existences, leaving a small but substantial mark on their daily lives and providing them the guidance that they desperately craved.

At its very foundation, The Meddler is designed as a vehicle for its lead, and we’ve seen an influx of films in which actors from the older generation are allowed to showcase their skills despite technically being out of the age range usually associated with certain genres, getting a second wind to their careers and firmly consolidating their legacies. Obviously, we never doubted that Susan Sarandon was one of the greatest performers of her generation, as she led multiple films over the past fifty years, establishing herself as one of the great screen actors of our time. Yet, even with such an iconic actor in the central role, Scafaria still finds ways to reinterpret her skills, which is done through simply handling Sarandon in an undeniably brilliant role. The character of Marnie was decidedly quite tricky to play, since she is certainly very well-written, but still depended on an actor who could capture the nuances of a character that could have very easily been quite shrill and annoying. Sarandon masterfully walks that narrow, tightrope between charmingly overbearing and outright frustrating, and consistently finds ways to bring this wonderful character to life. I’m secure in my belief that The Meddler is some of the best work she has done in the last two decades, and most certainly the one film in the last few years that has actually known exactly how to use her, not simply resorting to her presence as the selling point, but also giving her a memorable, complex character to play – and as a result, she proves to be entirely up to the challenge. She’s joined by a solid ensemble cast, featuring the likes of Rose Byrne, J.K. Simmons, Cecily Strong, Jerrod Carmichael and a range of other actors – and while they’re all given terrific moments (Byrne and Simmons in particular, as the most fully-developed of the supporting cast), The Meddler is fundamentally Sarandon’s film, and we are never in doubt that she’s the main attraction.

The aspect that does tie everything in The Meddler together is not solely Sarandon – there is only so much that an actor can do with this material, regardless of how brilliant she may be – and a lot of this falls onto Scafaria, who has the unenviable task of having to tell such a story without resorting to the more obvious techniques often associated with this sub-genre of effervescent, vaguely offbeat blend of comedy and drama. In fact, it’s actually in this slightly ambiguous distinction that we find the film is most effective, since it never intends to reveal all of its intentions from the outset. Instead, it luxuriates in a kind of tonal vagueness, never being entirely focused on either the humour or melancholy, rather choosing to observe both in tandem as the narrative anchors that drive this narrative. There are a few moments in which The Meddler arguably does rely on some conventions – it seems impossible to tell such a story without a couple of instances of dipping into familiarity, but it’s the way in which the director handles it that makes the difference. The film does tackle some very tricky subjects – not only is it a film about a strained mother-daughter relationship, but it also covers the topic of ageism and the challenges older women face while trying to navigate society, which is very rarely easy for them, especially given the obstacles that have historically stood in their way. Through crafting The Meddler as a series of connected vignettes in which our happy-go-lucky protagonist finds herself in a variety of precarious situations, we are given the chance to see her wonderfully strange and outrageous efforts to get herself out of even the more dire of scenarios. It’s not particularly complex filmmaking, but the careful balance of emotions more than compensates for the various elements that the film has to rely on to sell the various nuances of a very simple narrative, one that is certainly far less polished than we may initially anticipate.

There was a survey taken quite a few years ago in which an extensive group of people were polled to determine the most beautiful word in the English language – the results were overwhelmingly in support of the word “mother”, and I’d suspect the same results will occur if we were to look at other languages, all of which use their native term as shorthand for the highest, most poignant form of reverence. The Meddler is a perfect example of a film that celebrates motherhood without being unnecessarily fawning or overly sentimental, choosing instead to be quietly subversive and finding beauty in the more unconventional moments. It’s very entertaining, and while we are mostly invested in seeing Sarandon deliver a stellar performance (something that has become quite rare, not due to her apathy for her craft, but the inability of the industry to make proper use of this exceptional actor), the film that surrounds her is filled to the brim with a kind of sweetness and sentimentality that is very difficult to understate. It’s a poignant, compelling performance by one of our greatest actors, and the film as a whole is a wonderful tribute to not only her gifts, but to the concept of motherhood and the women who take on this role, whether in the traditional sense of being a biological or adopted parent, or the more symbolic act of mentoring and guiding those who simply need a mother’s love every once in a while. Oscillating between outrageously funny and deeply sentimental, The Meddler is a lovable, soulful film with as much heart as it has humour, making up a stellar combination of ideas that all coalesce in an absolute delight of a film.