'Mother!' is a movie from hell -- and I mean that as a compliment

Director Darren Aronofsky has long been preoccupied with telling visceral stories about the mind, body and spirit. And particularly when it comes to the body, he doesn't like to shy away from the literal and tactile. My two favorite films of his -- The Wrestler and Black Swan -- couched his obsessions within a character study of deeply flawed but sympathetic protagonists. And even in those films, Aronofsky's directorial hand was very present and distinct.

In his latest provocation -- Mother! -- Aronofsky -- and all his indulgences and eccentricities -- are even more on center stage, which will be repellent to some viewers, but it proved fascinating to me.

This movie is ostensibly about Jennifer Lawrence's mousy, victimized heroine -- the entire film is shot from her claustrophobic perspective to stunning effect -- but by the time its wildly uncompromising and draining last act comes to a conclusion it becomes increasingly clear that this may be an autobiographical film Aronofsky has made.

It can be interpreted as a meditation on several themes -- the epically fragile male ego, the nature of celebrity, the ordeal of creating art, the battle of the sexes -- there is probably a little something for everybody. That is, except for mainstream audiences seeking a straight genre picture.

The first three quarters of this film does play out like a wildly intriguing psychological horror film, on par with Rosemary's Baby with its ability to evoke encroaching dread.

The casting of Javier Bardem and Lawrence as a married couple seems anachronistic at first, until you begin to believe it's meant to be. Meanwhile Ed Harris and especially Michelle Pfeiffer (who nearly steals the movie) make a strong impression as a mysterious couple that impose themselves upon their younger counterparts.

But then the narrative starts to escalate to an almost unbearable brew of relentless tension, black comedy and disturbing violence (much of it inflicted upon Lawrence). It's hard not to think of Aronofsky's real life personal life turmoil -- his ex-wife, actress Rachel Weisz, literally left him for James Bond (a.k.a. Daniel Craig).

There seems to be some fairly histrionic self-flagellation at play here, and yet the film is so frequently riveting and technically impressive that it didn't bother me half as much as it potentially should have. Lawrence certainly puts herself through the ringer absorbing all kinds of abuse both mental, emotional and ultimately physically (in perhaps the film's most disturbing sequence).

None of this seems meant for wide consumption, let alone 'enjoyment'. This is a movie that jumps from genre to art film with very few guardrails or nods to subtlety. But I've always had a soft spot for films that take risks, whether they work or not, than a movie that is staid and predictable.

If anything, I'm impressed that something as decidedly uncommercial as this movie was ever even greenlit by a major film studio, especially since it is a deeply pessimistic and caustic movie. I've read that even those who admire Mother! won't ever want to revisit it again, but don't count me in their number. I will be unpacking this one again and again for a long while.