‘The Mother and the Bear’ review: A quirky comedy with heart | TIFF 2024

Two different films are happening simultaneously throughout the playful The Mother and the Bear. Written and directed by Johnny Ma, the film tackles a litany of tones and stylistic flourishes in an attempt to tell what is, reflectively, a relatively straightforward story. A mother tries to understand her distant daughter and the secrets the latter keeps from her. The wildly inconsistent tone both helps and hinders the final product, but there’s no denying the tender heart at its center. 

A brilliant Kim Ho-jung stars as Sara, who doesn’t understand why her daughter never moved back to South Korea. Said daughter, Sumi (Leere Park), suffers a sudden accident while living in Winnipeg and undergoes a medically induced coma because of it. When Sara arrives in the city her daughter now calls home, she must contend with all of the secrets her daughter has been keeping and realize that, despite her good intentions, she might not know best how Sumi should lead her own life. 

While this all sounds relatively forlorn, the actual final production is willfully silly at times. The direction and performances lean into broad territories as Sarah tries to find Sumi, a Korean man, to keep her daughter safe and happy. Her plan, aided by those who believe she’s using the app for herself, is to date and catfish men online as her daughter. The silliness and generational divide bring a certain level of laughter that helps scrub away the distaste this plot could bring.

But despite it being a leading charge of the narrative, it’s easily the least compelling part. There’s a lot made about the mother and daughter’s cultural and generational differences. Some, which include Sarah finding one of her daughter’s vibrators without knowing its use, are genuinely hilarious, mainly due to Kim being so committed to the bit. Other instances, such as bizarrely placed dream sequences, fail to land with a similar impact. Ultimately, the concept and framing being pushed through the lens of a mother trying to hook her daughter up while said daughter is comatose sours the overall effect. 

The film is at its very best when it pivots and allows the romantic lends to shift focus to Sarah and a man she meets, the owner of a Korean restaurant. He and Sarah demonstrate a lived-in tenderness that illustrates how simple acts of kindness can erode the tarnish of loneliness. The warmest aspect of the film is the two and how they find one another in a city so overtaken by chill. So much so that it’s hard not to wish that more of the story preoccupied itself with their dynamic. 

Ma’s direction works at times, such as when it highlights Winnipeg’s scenery. The character-driven moments create the real moments of beauty in a film that often tries too hard to be experimental when it’s unnecessary to do so. But scenes such as Sarah making an army’s worth of kimchi are done so with robust energy, putting to screen the act of laborious love the project is. How food and language connect people is a driving force behind some of the film’s best moments, and sequences such as this drive that point home. 

Even in its best moments, the film wouldn’t work to the same degree without Kim’s committed and eager performance. There’s an inherent sweetness in her delivery that softens the blow of even her most significant stumbles. She’s an engaging and watchable screen presence, no matter her screen partner. She spends much time alone in the film and is just as riveting as Sarah (unbeknownst to her) scarfs down weed gummies as she is when she sits vigil at her daughter’s bedside.

There’s tremendous love and care shown to these characters throughout The Mother and The Bear. And for all of Sarah’s clumsy missteps, there’s never a question of her unyielding love for her daughter. It’s the film’s heart, a story about a mother who, above all else, seeks to understand her daughter. While not everything directorial decision works, and the slapstick comedy only works incrementally, the overall effect is moving. For all of the unusual directions, the human elements strike a chord. 

The Mother and The Bear played as part of 2024’s Toronto International Film Festival.