Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother opens with a murder in a public restroom in Houston. The victim, a man, is never identified. The killer is a professional assassin named Latif, played by Mahershala Ali.
As their bloody struggle plays out, we hear a solemn voiceover explanation of the film's title. It's rooted in a hadith, a record of the sayings and actions of the Prophet Muhammad. A man approaches the Prophet and asks, "Who deserves the best of me?" The question is posed three times, and each time, the Prophet responds, "Your mother."
Right from the start, the Pakistani American writer-director Bassam Tariq clearly delights in outrageous juxtapositions. Latif is not your average contract killer. He's a husband, a father and a devout Muslim, and he justifies his profession by only targeting victims that he believes society would be better off without. He also never uses a gun; a saber is his weapon of choice.
It's not an easy thing, killing people and raising a family — just ask Tony Soprano — and it's about to get a lot harder for Latif. Right after this latest job, he gets the tragic news that his wife has died of an illness. Latif, not the most attentive of dads, is suddenly left to raise a teenage daughter, a preteen son and a baby by himself.
Assassins don't get bereavement leave, and so Latif remains under enormous pressure from his employer, a Muslim crime boss. Much of the pleasure of Tariq's movie comes from trying to get a handle on his gonzo vision of Houston's religious criminal underbelly. It's a wildly stylized world of bright neon lights and ugly strip malls, where it can be hard to tell a house of sin from a house of worship, and even the most unsavory characters live by a particular creed.
Latif is ordered to protect his boss' nephew, Hatty, an online pornographer who offers "halal-certified" smut. Hatty, played by Abubakr Ali, has run afoul of a local Christian pastor who's on a brutal anti-porn crusade. Played by a terrific John Cho, wearing gold dental grills and a cowboy hat, the pastor is one of the film's more fascinating creations: a gun-loving ex-military man who shares Latif's belief in the cleansing power of violence.
One especially chaotic scene takes place at a mosque, where Latif and his kids have a run-in with the crime boss, the pornographer and a vanload of sex workers. Afterward, Latif scolds his daughter — beautifully played by the actor Adia — for having stolen some milk from the mosque for the baby. That leads to a tough conversation about their struggles with faith, including the difficulties of making dua, or praying.
Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother has an interesting origin story. Several years ago, Tariq was set to direct Ali in a new movie about the Marvel comic-book antihero Blade. But after numerous delays, Tariq left the production, and the film fell apart. Years later, the two have reunited on what feels like a more original version of the movie they planned to make. Latif may not hunt vampires as Blade does, but he's no less deadly with a knife.
Nearly a decade ago, Ali became the first Muslim actor to win an Oscar, for his gorgeous performance in Moonlight. It's great to see him play such an unconventional Muslim protagonist here, and to balance his quiet depth with a lethal display of action prowess. Tariq can stage a set-piece with energy and verve, and there's something fitting about the way he uses violence to call out the blood that has been spilled in the name of religion. And it all builds to an undeniably gripping climax that reaffirms the power of faith and surrender.
Even so, the action remains by far the most generic aspect of Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother, and I couldn't help but imagine a different version of the movie that didn't fall back on so many familiar hit-man thriller beats. But perhaps those genre moves are what allow the movie's gentler, funnier moments to resonate. I'm thinking of Giancarlo Esposito's lovely performance as a mosque leader who disapproves of Latif's career and tries to steer him right. I'm also thinking of the story's most grounded and compelling subplot: For much of the movie, Latif is driving around Houston, desperate to find breast milk for the baby, who can't keep formula down. Fortunately, a lactating sex worker, played by Tiffany Boone, is on hand to save the day, which she does, with the utmost generosity. In Tariq's bracing film, mercy can come to us all in the most mysterious ways.
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