Tia Nomore delivers strongly here in this otherwise rather unremarkable drama about "Gia". She's a woman expecting her third child in San Francisco, with the other two already in the care system and she seems to be thinking this latest one will be adopted. We have no idea where the child's father is - indeed, men don't feature much at all in this film - so we are quickly immersed in her sense of isolation and loneliness from the start. It's not an emotionally charged, woe-is-me, sort of loneliness - it's more of a realisation that she wants to be on her own, thrives better on her own, won't get let down on her own. The thrust of the narrative now attempts to confront that approach and demonstrate to her that there are plenty amongst her community who could be there to help, to engage and to integrate with. It's a nicely photographed film with camerawork that provides us with an intimate glimpse into this troubled woman's life, but the story is really nothing new and the storyline emphasises all too clearly the difficulties of trying to have a child whilst reliant on over-stretched state infrastructure without addressing any of her own social and behavioural responsibilities to herself and unborn child. Indeed, she comes across frequently as a rather selfish, almost, childish herself, kind of character who thinks nothing of walking through the park stealing nappies from other recent mothers! It has moments that are poignant, and it does look good - but it's way too simplistic and just a little one-sided for me. I expect to see more of Nomore though.

This is one of those films that leaves me with decidedly mixed feelings. It's definitely a showcase for writer-director Savanah Leaf, whose considerable artistic sensibilities are clearly apparent in her first feature outing. The same can be said for lead actress Tia Nomore, making her screen debut in a genuinely moving performance. Unfortunately, the vehicle in which their talents are being put to use could stand to be better. This story of the bureaucratic turmoil faced by a single mother in recovery who's pregnant with her third child (and her first two in foster care) sincerely seeks to evoke viewer empathy for the circumstances she's enduring. At the same time, though, the story also raises many questions about responsibility (or a lack thereof), an admittedly honest depiction of conditions that are often present in these scenarios that, nevertheless, tends to undercut the pursuit of that aforementioned goal, leaving viewers (like yours truly) confused about what to truly feel. Add to that a somewhat thin narrative that feels padded to fill out the runtime, and one has a picture that comes up short of its objective, despite the efforts of a fine ensemble cast and engaging cinematography. This production's National Board of Review accolades and Independent Spirit Award nominations aside, Leaf and Nomore genuinely deserve better material to show audiences what they're capable of. Regrettably, however, this isn't it.

Exploring themes which range through motherhood, class and race, debut feature Earth Mama from Savanah Leaf is a stunningly quiet but hard hitting film. The young filmmaker has built upon her 2020 documentary short The Heart Still Hums, co-directed by Taylor Russell, and her own lived experiences with an adopted sister to create a world which absorbs every part of you. The camerawork in Earth Mama offers surreal expressionistic moments juxtaposed with raw documentary-esque storytelling and Leaf's forceful authorial voice confidently allows the stunning images of her characters and the Bay Area locations to often say more than is contained in the subtle dialogue. Featuring a captivating debut performance from Tia Nomore the characters of Earth Mama also serve as a love letter to the women and individuals let down by the very systems supposed to protect and guide them.

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source: Earth Mama

Writer-director Savanah Leaf makes an impressive and distinctive debut with "Earth Mama", a feature inspired by the filmmaker's earlier documentary short on the ordeals of Black mothers with children in the American foster-care system. The film that "Earth Mama" most immediately reminded me of was Ken Loach's "I, Daniel Blake" in that both are portraits of worlds dominated by bureaucracies, criminal at least as much for their incompetence and blindness as for their cruelty. In Leaf's work, more than that of Loach's, this bureaucracy is dominated, indeed defined by, power that is identified by its subjects as "other", in this case as "white". Both Loach and Leaf leave some room for hope in their respective worlds. For Loach's more identity-empowered (white male) protagonist hope takes the form of rebellion, of finding one's agency, even if that agency cannot alter one's fate. Leaf, in fact, leaves more room for the possibility of survival and an eventual "happy ending" than does Loach. However, this hope is only reached by way of the fatalistic acceptance of one's own subjection to a system that even the African-Americans who work within it acknowledge is designed to harm Black lives. (For the other oppressed by white supremacy, survival IS rebellion.). While this is a feature, Leaf does not abandon her documentarian instincts. In a style reminiscent of that of Alexander Kluge, Leaf has her performers momentarily and without announcement break from character to interview actual Black survivors of the foster care system, as well as mothers with children within it. The result is some movingly intimate, confessional cinema. However much this film deals with real-life issues and occasionally with real life people, Leaf reveals herself to be a bit of a metaphysician. She finds beauty and hope in a pre-oppression "nature" (that may or may not be a world of pure imagination). Cinematographer Jody Lee Lipes finds magic and meaning in the natural landscapes and water-scapes of the Bay Area. The film is extremely musical, with Kelsey Lu's haunting score quietly permeating almost every scene. Alternating from bluesy to sublime, Lu's work reflects that of Leaf's with a sense of beauty in a world bereft of much freedom, but not of hope.

Originally premiered at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival. "Earth Mama" isn't one of A24's best works but it's still an ambitious film about the struggles of being a single mother with interesting themes explored, beautiful camerawork and a good lead performance. Leaf does a pretty good job on maintaining the directing and the movie's tone with keeping the dramatic and emotional elements holding pretty well while ensuring the film's realism is kept stable. Throughout, the camerawork and the colorful presentation helps create the beauty of the Bay Area of California and the environment the characters are surrounded in. Many of the performances were solid with the main lead's performance being pretty good. On the narrative, the narrative is simple as the narrative has been explored before from previous movies and for the most part, there were some strong elements while some other elements could have some improvements. The soundtrack was smooth to help add closure and emotional depth into the setting. The characters have interesting moments and purposes but I wasn't really able to fully connected with them as I hoped for. The characters had some charming moments but they could have been better fleshed out. The pacing was pretty good and the third act does have some pretty genuine emotional moments that were strong. Overall, despite some flaws, Leaf does provide an interesting movie on motherhood amongst the black community with an strong outlook. Rating: B.

Trailer—Earth Mama