‘Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother’ (2026) Review | TIFF 2026

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Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother is all about not letting worthy skill go to waste – both within its story, and in the film’s real-life actualization. Director Bassam Tariq, who was previously tapped to direct Mahershala Ali in the MCU’s previously announced Blade project, clearly took the opportunity to put much of that preparation into this after an unceremonious falling through of the much-anticipated Marvel project.

Perhaps we’re better off for it. Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother is a powerhouse of a film. Following Latif (Ali) after the death of his wife as he struggles with keeping his faith, supporting his family, and maintaining what we can only refer to as his “work” as a former hitman of sorts.

The action comes in electric waves. Several set pieces highlight Mahershala’s impressive physicality as he engages in hand-to-hand combat with various foes. Latif’s principled stance (insinuated but never confirmed to be due to his faith) dictates that he uses knives, swords, and blades rather than guns as his tools for battle. They also make for better spectacle. And despite Ali’s impressive frame, he glides through the fight scenes with elegance and grace.

It’s far from a surprise, but Ali is also able to deliver in the film’s more emotionally charged sequences. Latif’s inner conflict of not allowing his faith to be shaken after his wife’s passing is where Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother shines brightest. There aren’t many American made films about practitioners of Islam that fully explore how they reconcile any of their desired surrender to faith with the unfortunate truths of the tangible world they live in.

In that regard, Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother is in conversation with something like Mean Streets (and several other Scorsese flicks) about violent or criminally implicated men who want to be devout in their religious observation. Your Mother Your Mother Your Mother benefits from the added layer of counterbalancing our protagonist’s religious practice with those of other characters.

The primary antagonist is Pastor Hwan Kwan (John Cho), the overly zealous, gun toting leader of an Evangelical Christian group looking to simultaneously expel Islam and pornography from their community in one fell swoop. The absurd and over the top nature of Pastor Kwan and his followers represent a clear foil for Latif. They exhibit no introspection regarding their religious identity. Just blind “faith” that leaves them as empty vessels unable to sincerely engage with the world around them.

In the film’s climatic scene, Latif does get the upper hand in combat, but his truest triumph is getting an upper hand in prayer. In the presence of a true miracle, Kwan and Co. don’t actually know how to respond. They can’t fathom what infallible devotion is actually capable of.

There are also scenes of Mormon neighbors and Latif’s community mosque, led by Iman Abdul (Giancarlo Esposito) which both offer warmth and solace to Latif and his family. When these sacred spaces have their borders penetrated by violent outside forces, Latif is left to grapple with what he’s inadvertently wrought on these places.

But the real terror for Latif is in seeing what his action, or some cases inaction, means for his ability to protect his kids. One of his three, now motherless children, is a young baby who needs more breastmilk. She won’t keep formula down, and the family is running out of the milk mom left behind.

All of the action is kicked into gear via a quest for breastmilk. A father trying to impossibly fill a mother’s shoes. He can obviously never naturally provide the necessary nourishment that his baby needs, but Latif is determined to do everything in his power to ensure his child gets what she needs. More than any explosion of violence, this uncertainty of his status as a competent caretaker is what shakes Latif’s faith. He struggles to pray to an Allah who takes so much away from him. But he must keep his faith for himself, and for his kids to keep theirs.

In the end, there is clarity, and there is even salvation. Latif’s skills don’t go to waste – as a father, as a hitman, or as a devout practicing Muslim.