Publisher: Brent Marchant October 1, 2026
Most crime thrillers are fairly formulaic in their attributes and narratives. Viewers could readily swap sequences from one movie to another and not really notice much of a difference. Every so often, though, a feature comes along that incorporates other, unexpected elements to help distinguish it from the pack, and this latest offering from writer-director Bassam Tariq is one such example. The notion that a devout man of faith could also be a cut-throat hitman almost seems too incongruous to be believed, yet Latif (Mahershala Ali) somehow manages to make that combination of traits work. Nevertheless, the limits of that juggling act get put to the test when his wife, Khadija (Shakirah DeMesier), passes away, leaving him a single father responsible for raising three children, the youngest of whom, Aziza (Brooklyn Hughes/Jaxon Hughes), can’t ingest baby formula and must subsist on breast milk, a difficult commodity to come by when one’s mother is no longer around. Latif’s faith is also put to the test when he wrestles with how Allah could allow his wife be taken away from him and her children so seemingly easily. But, in the midst of dealing with these personal challenges, there’s still work to be done, and Latif struggles to fulfill his obligations to his underworld kingpin boss, Mike Mahmoudi (Laith Nakli), and his oily nephew, Hatty (Abubakr Ali), a producer of pornographic films. Of late, the unsavory duo has come under attack by Pastor Hwan (John Cho), a born-again zealot who leads a right-wing fundamentalist movement that has assumed the task of ridding the world of negative influences like Hatty. Naturally, this places the preacher high on Mike’s list of targets for Latif’s services. However, as personal and professional story threads converge, events spiral out of control for Latif in both his work and on the homefront. He becomes caught in the crossfire – literally and figuratively – as he attempts to sort out matters, protect his family and stick to his religious convictions. And, as the story unfolds toward its climax, it takes some highly unexpected twists and turns of an otherworldly spiritual nature, definitely *not* the kind of developments one would see coming in a film like this. Needless to say, this is *far* from your typical crime drama. But what makes this release so unconventional is that the criminal element is not at the story’s forefront (and, in fact, isn’t always as well developed as it might have been, especially in terms of clarifying the connections among characters and how those relationships impact the overall flow of the narrative). The picture also could use some elaboration in the principals’ back stories (such as how did Latif develop the ninja-like proficiency he brings to his vocation and how did he end up in a line of work so seemingly contradictory to his devotion to Islam?). In addition, sensitive viewers should be aware of this offering’s sometimes-ample graphic violence on display. In contrast to these potentially troubling aspects, though, this release provides a wealth of enlightening insights into Islamic beliefs and parables, elements one would not expect to find here. In all likelihood, however, “Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother” is the kind of movie that viewers may have to sit with for a while after watching it (as I did), allowing some time to unpack what it has to say about faith, redemption, responsibility, loyalty and justice in both one’s personal affairs and one’s calling in life, no matter how one seeks to approach these matters for oneself.