Manuel Uberti’s review published on Letterboxd:
I usually rely on critics to help me discover new films. I trust film criticism, love it and sometimes attempt to write some with poor results. There are critics that mesmerize me with their words and deepen my appreciation for a particular film. I envy their mastering of the language, their style, their understanding of cinema.
Mommy was completely destroyed by all the critics I regularly read. No wonder at the time of its appearance I avoided it. Now here on Letterboxd, everyone's still pretty angry at Mommy except for Eli Hayes.
His review promptly knocked me off my chair, and not because I relate to his experiences but because I sensed his feelings through his writing. And I can relate to those feelings.
So I forgot everything written about Mommy and kept Hayes' words with me while approaching the film tonight. I forgot objectivity and let myself go along with the devastating story of a mother and a son that struggle to cope with the world around them.
Even though I am no Steve, there is much of me in here. Maybe too much. And now, home alone, it's hard to even grab the book next to me and start reading before going to sleep.
For once, I am happy my favourite film critics don't know me that well. Except for one of them. Eli Hayes.
Thank you, Mr. Hayes.