Anna Muylaert’s comedic and heartfelt drama, The Second Mother, is a tale of what happens when you subvert class expectations and believe your own self worth. The story centres around Val (Regina Casé), a live-in staff member of a wealthy Brazilian family in São Paulo, who has left her daughter in Pernambuco. Val works endlessly, cooking, cleaning, raising their son, walking the dog, managing other staff, being a human alarm clock. And honestly anything else the family can think of in order to make enough money to send back home.
However, Val’s life is completely turned upside down when her estranged daughter, Jéssica (Camila Márdila), calls out of the blue to say she wants to come and stay with Val. Jéssica is a force of nature. Although young, she is sure of herself, her position in society, and her value. By simply being, she becomes a catalyst for change, as she (most of the time) unconsciously picks away at the invisible class barriers that are in place between Val and the family.
Jéssica is smart, with the hopes of going to the top university in the city to study architecture. Subverting the expectations of someone from a low-economic background in a northern Brazilian town. She doesn’t fit in with this family, but she has no problem walking around as if she could own the place.
Val’s horror at Jéssica’s insolence is cringe-worthy, if not somewhat comical, especially when we and Jéssica do not believe she is doing anything wrong. There is no reason why Jéssica couldn’t stay in the spare guest room or sit at their kitchen table. She is a guest in their house, isn’t she?
One of the particularly painful (but in a good way, I promise) threads of this film is the struggle matriarch Bárbara has in admitting and addressing her discomfort with having Jéssica around. Prior to Jéssica’s arrival, everyone knew their place, where they should and shouldn’t (or is it could and couldn’t?) go, how they address members of the family, and what exactly their role is. Bárbara is meant to be liberal, she’s smoked weed, she works in fashion – so why does Jéssica’s presence threaten her so much? It’s as if Jéssica’s freedom and youth is something Bárbara yearns for but refuses to take.
The Second Mother is a story about motherhood above all. What does it mean to truly be a mother? Is it making the hard decisions even when it takes you away from your children? Is it enough to be present even if you’re not paying attention? At the end of the day, will your children be proud of you as you are of them?
As the film goes on, Bárbara sees Val and Fabinho’s relationship more clearly. Val has raised him, become his confidant, his safe space, his comfort. Val is everything Bárbara is not to Fabinho. However, on the flip side, we see that Val is everything to Fabinho that she is not to Jéssica. It is this tension and realisation that provides momentum to the film.
In a film that is on the surface is about class dynamics, the heart of it is Val and Jéssica’s journey, their growth, and the rekindling of their relationship. It’s a film of movement, in the way that the dialogue flows, the camera moves, and the actors weave in and out of rooms. It feels light and deliberate, it is intimate and political and its success is only solidified further by the phenomenal performances by Casé and Márdila. By the end of the film, you will be shouting in triumph, dabbing away a few tears, and sending a quick message to your Mum.
The Second Mother is part of the Feature Film Selections at the 10th Femme Filmmakers Festival this September.
