The ambiguous and sometimes tragic nature of motherhood is the subject of writer/director Daisy-May Hudson’s forceful debut, Lollipop.
In 2013 Daisy-May Hudson was studying for a degree in English and Drama in Manchester. At the same time, her family back in Essex were being evicted from their home, outpriced on the rental market and forced to go through the social housing system. Hudson rushed home, picked up a camera and decided to film their experience which resulted in her acclaimed documentary Half Way. For her first fictional feature film, Lollipop, Hudson draws from her real-life experience and the women who have inspired her along the way.
LWLies: Your film has many thematic layers to it and one of those is a beautiful tribute to the complexities of motherhood. Can you talk me through the many mother characters we meet and how you decided to portray them in the film?
Hudson: Molly was inspired by these women I met outside the Houses of Parliament who were protesting to have their children back after they had been removed by social services. Also another mother who became an advisor to the film who also had her children removed. They were these Lioness women who were so determined by that unbreakable bond between a mother and child. I’m also really interested in generational trauma and the mirroring of mother and daughter relationships. Molly is so determined to be a cycle breaker but she ends up falling into some of the same cycles that her mum went through. She parents her mother just like her daughter parents her. And of course, Amina, they just have this magical connection that happens on screen but also off screen when Idil and Posy get together. They have this ability to see each other beyond their roles as mothers.
I loved Amina and Molly’s ride or die friendship. In your writing of female friendship what were the most important things for you to depict?
I think there’s a magical thing that happens when we allow ourselves to be seen and it takes courageous vulnerability. When we do it there’s this depth of connection where we can meet with someone that is transformational. That’s what happens with Molly and Amina. They start by hiding and fear of showing the darkest parts of ourselves. Ultimately, they show those parts, and they fall in deeper love, a deeper sisterhood. The thing I’ve always felt about Molly is that she had always been in survival mode and Amina provides a safe space where she can put down her guard. She can lean back into love. That softens her and enables her to start loving herself and making new choices and then showing up to life in a different way. Amina really feels this deep gratitude for Molly because she actually feels seen as a woman beyond all expectations. That was so healing for Amina, but also for Idil in real life.
You’ve been very careful not to paint any of the people we meet in your film as villains. The social housing system was something you and your family experienced first-hand so can you talk to me about the things you drew from real life?
The thing we came up against as a family was the limitations of the rules. You may be speaking to a human being but they are working within this framework. When I was researching for the script, I was meeting really genuine people who went into the job because they cared and wanted to make a difference. Then they get limited by this red tape… particularly this dehumanising language that they are trained to say. I remember when we were homeless, we kept being told, ‘in due course.’ It’s this purgatory basically. It was really important to me that there was no baddie or goodie because I don’t think people go into a job to become bad guys. Also I think we’re just one choice away from being on the other side of the table. When we were casting I wanted to find people that looked like Molly, or could be Molly’s friend or auntie… that’s the thing about working class communities you can be on any side of the table just trying to do your best and do right by your family.
What are the guiding factors for the type of cinema you want to make?
I want to make films that crack people’s hearts open in the most beautiful way. For me humanity is about experiencing this full spectrum of emotion. That can be the deepest grief but the highest heights of joy. I think that’s what you experience in Lollipop.