Masturbation, so often mechanically pumped on screen in the form of a punchline, takes on a devastating thematic function in Ma Mère. Christophe Honoré’s psychosexual farce, loosely based on an unfinished Georges Bataille novella), resembles a primal scream emanating from the heart of every child who finally comes face to face with the odds that their parents probably weren’t fucking for procreative purposes when they were conceived.
Pierre (Louis Garrel) is a sullen and pouty-lipped little bitch—per one of the film’s loquacious characters—who, upon his return from Catholic boarding school, deals with a one-two shock to his psyche when his distant father is killed in a car accident and his mother, Hélène (Isabelle Huppert), suddenly takes an intense interest in showing her teenage emo boy the ropes of sexual dissolution. Mother, it would seem, is a whore. In fact, she cavalierly admits as much.
Pierre’s devotion to his own fatigued sense of piety can’t cope with Hélène’s whorey pastimes and willful temptations. And damned if Huppert doesn’t turn this object d’cypher role into exactly the sort of gay-son-as-Oedipus tribute that Dan Harris flubbed with Imaginary Heroes, especially in light of the revelation that he owes his entire existence to a lovemaking session between his parents that invoked a lurid dose of horse-riding imagery.
As played by mop-topped Garrel, who looks like the love child of Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna, Pierre reacts to the unapologetically sex-centric nature of his mother’s existence, to say nothing of her increasingly forthright lustful passes, by burrowing into his dad’s porn stash and masturbating right into the magazines’ folds. It’s as if by engaging in the most clichéd male adolescent rite of passage he can recalibrate his already wildly spinning moral compass.
At least it would represent a step in the right direction, since he later reveals his sob-ridden prayer sessions are merely a self-imposed façade, erected with the latent hope for his impending corruption—and nothing says “Happy Mother’s Day” like putting your dick in danger of being pierced by staples. It’s only the first of Pierre’s whackings off, which culminate in one of the most shockingly funny scenes of spankus interruptus you’re bound to ever see, but the message is clear: If he means to break the cycle of incestuous relations clinging like crabs to his lineage, he’d do best to drain his balls before taking his mother up on her sadomasochistic offers.
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