Starring: Maria-Teresa, Carolyn Saint-Pé, Lucy Clements
Writer: Katie Bonham
Director: Katie Bonham
Mab tells the story of Rosie (Maria-Teresa) and her mother, Kris (Lucy Clements), who struggle to make ends meet. Their only source of income comes from the daily delivery Rosie makes to the mysterious Mab, but what are these deliveries and what impact will this have on their lives of those around them?
You may remember how much I enjoyed Katie Bonham's previous short film Mindless, a terrific, emotionally resonant piece of work that ended up in my Top Ten films of 2016 so it was with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation that I approached Mab. I needn't have been concerned because Mab is even more accomplished than its predecessor.
Much like Mindless the plot’s focus is on the real, desperate, domestic struggles of the type of characters who are seldom given prominence in the horror genre and gives them a deft, otherworldly spin. The magical elements of the story never overwhelm the surprisingly gritty social commentary, instead the supernatural weaves its way in and out of the tale in creepy, strange and ultimately startling fashion.
The performances are top-notch, especially newcomer Maria-Teresa who is truly outstanding as Rosie. Surrounded by people who range from uncaring to genuinely horrendous, we are further drawn into the struggles of her character thanks to an adept, sympathetic performance. We don't learn too much about the other characters along the way (other than the fact they're generally awful) but that isn't an issue as this is Rosie's story and Maria-Teresa's expressive yet delicate work takes centre stage as it should.
As for the production design it’s consistently excellent, Mab’s place in particular being beautifully realised, a weird, wonderful collection of mystic artefacts which provides the ideal enchanted counterpoint to the drab dwelling inhabited by Rosie and her mum. I also loved the train which took Rosie to Mab’s each day, a familiar mode of transport given an unusual makeover and providing the perfect connection between the everyday and the extraordinary.
In some short films, the score sometimes goes by the wayside for any number of different reasons but here it’s yet another example of how Mab delivers. Patrick Fagan’s sublime musical accompaniments are never nudging nor do they overpower the on-screen action but add another pleasing layer of eerie depth to the movie.
This doesn't deploy gallons of gore to keep its viewers watching and if you’re waiting for heads exploding or sprays of arterial claret then you’re going to have to rein in that bloodlust of yours. This rewards patience and imagination, proving that it’s what you create in your own head that’s far more devastating and terrifying than explicit grue. The fate of one character is all the more chilling simply because it resists cashing in with a spectacular, OTT demise. It’s all too real, it's genuinely horrible and it's something to which we can easily relate.
Mab is neither a movie which joins the dots for you in clunky fashion nor is it one so frustratingly enigmatic that you’ll wander out of the cinema wondering what the hell it was all about. Put your phone away for fifteen minutes and be swept up in this brilliant, original tale. The pace is perfect, the plot unfolds with great care and the climactic reveal is quietly yet profoundly disturbing. It’ll stay with you a whole lot longer than a shrieking chord of strings, a jump scare and a splash of red.
I may be starting to sound like a broken record when it comes to Katie Bonham's work but, as with the magnificent Mindless, this demands to be seen. Mab is an unmissable chiller from a skilled director growing in confidence and scope with each new project and I'm very much looking forward to finding out exactly where she's going to take us next.
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