Guy Lodge Film CriticIt’s a curious quirk of the British calendar that Mother’s Day — or Mothering Sunday, if you want to be formal about it — falls not in May, with all that month’s springy symbolism of new life, but the damp, unripe chill of mid-March, when no one feels much like celebrating anything at all.
In “Mothering Sunday,” however, a number of upper-class English families meet to picnic on a day so unseasonably warm and bright that the weather is the one safe running topic of conversation: It’s a gathering of more parents than children, where unspoken and unspeakable losses are politely talked around.
If Graham Swift’s 2016 novella was a guest at the same elegant, repressed garden party as L.P. Hartley’s “The Go-Between” and Ian.
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