Every once in a while, low-budget horror coughs up a relic so bizarre it feels less like a film and more like a fever dream someone shot on VHS in the backroom of a midwestern community theater. Enter Mommy (1995), a thriller starring Patty McCormack—yes, the same Patty who played the pint-sized psychopath in The Bad Seed (1956). Except this time, she’s grown up, slapped on some lipstick, and decided that the best way to honor her legacy is by strangling elementary school teachers and electrocuting janitors. Truly, a glow-up for the ages.
The Premise: PTA Mom from Hell
The movie asks the age-old question: “What if a mom wanted her kid to win Student of the Year so badly that she started murdering anyone who stood in the way?” To which the Ramsay Brothers of Bollywood would probably say, “Even for us, that’s a little much.”
Our plot is simple: Jessica Ann (Rachel Lemieux) is a wide-eyed twelve-year-old with the misfortune of having a mother who’s about as stable as a chair with two legs. Mommy Sterling, played with eyebrow-arching ferocity by McCormack, isn’t just overbearing—she’s homicidally competitive. Forget helicopter parenting; this is Apache-attack-helicopter parenting.
When Jessica doesn’t get Student of the Year because the teacher has the audacity to award it to a Mexican boy (representation matters, kids!), Mommy decides the solution is to push the teacher off a ladder and snap her neck like a Slim Jim. Because nothing screams “supportive parent” like cold-blooded murder.
Patty McCormack: From Child Killer to Stage Mom Killer
Casting McCormack as Mommy is like asking Jeffrey Dahmer to judge Chopped: you’re playing to type. Her performance here is a fascinating mix of camp, menace, and “I’ll do anything for a paycheck.” Half the time, she’s chewing scenery like it owes her money; the other half, she’s just chewing air, because the budget clearly couldn’t afford extras to stand around looking shocked.
The film wants us to fear her, but mostly we’re laughing. This isn’t Norman Bates in a dress—it’s Karen with a body count. She murders a teacher, zaps a janitor like she’s microwaving Hot Pockets, and still finds time to apply fresh lipstick before the PTA meeting.
Jessica Ann: The Saddest Narrator Since Holden Caulfield
The whole movie is narrated by Jessica Ann, which is a bold choice considering she’s twelve and has the voiceover delivery of someone doing a book report they didn’t read. Her job is to give the film gravitas, but instead it sounds like she’s narrating a sleepover ghost story: “That’s when I realized… maybe my mom… wasn’t normal.” No kidding, Jessica. Normal moms don’t keep a trophy stash of Student of the Year plaques like serial killers hoarding teeth.
Her biggest role is acting confused, horrified, and vaguely guilty that she might be responsible for the string of murders her mother keeps committing. Sweetheart, don’t feel bad. You didn’t kill anyone. You just had the misfortune of being raised by Mommy Dearest with a chokehold fetish.
The Deaths: As Creative as a Sock Puppet
Let’s talk about the kills. Horror fans crave originality. Friday the 13th had machetes. Nightmare on Elm Street had dreamscapes. Mommy? Mommy has… household accidents. A fall from a stepladder. An electrocution-by-bucket-of-water-near-a-fuse-box. A gunshot during an awkward date night. The deaths are less “inventive horror” and more “workplace safety video narrated by OSHA.”
By the time Mommy strangles someone, you’re not even shocked. You’re just wondering if she’ll eventually get creative—maybe poison a bake sale pie, or stab someone with a sharpened No. 2 pencil. Alas, this script has all the imagination of a soggy Pop-Tart.
Supporting Cast: Professional Shruggers
Everyone else in the film looks like they’re waiting for their checks. Jason Miller (yes, Father Karras from The Exorcist) shows up as Detective March, who suspects Mommy from the start but spends the entire runtime squinting like he lost his reading glasses. Brinke Stevens pops in as the aunt, whose sole job is to say, “Jessica, honey, maybe your mom is unwell,” before getting kicked out of the house.
The film also boasts cameos from Mickey Spillane and Majel Barrett (yes, the Star Trek one). Both of them look like they wandered onto the wrong set but were too polite to leave.
Family Drama: Murder, Lies, and PTA Politics
At the film’s rotten core is a family drama that wants to be about control, love, and generational trauma. Instead, it’s about a woman murdering half the school faculty because her daughter didn’t win a plaque. The emotional weight is as convincing as a Walmart clearance-aisle Hallmark card.
There’s a subplot where Mommy tries to strangle her own daughter in a motel, but then chickens out because Jessica “looked like her” in the moonlight. Excuse me, what? That’s not pathos—that’s lazy scriptwriting. If you’re going to go full Bad Seed Redux, at least commit to the bit. Don’t half-ass the filicide.
Tone: Lifetime Movie Meets Snapped
The weirdest thing about Mommy is its tone. It wants to be a horror thriller, but it’s shot and scored like a Lifetime Sunday-afternoon melodrama. Instead of chills, you get awkward dinner conversations, long lingering shots of suburban kitchens, and dialogue that sounds like rejected soap-opera lines.
Every time the movie edges toward campy fun, it pulls back and insists on being serious, which is like watching someone try to perform Shakespeare at a Chuck E. Cheese.
Patty McCormack’s Revenge Tour
Ultimately, Mommy only exists because somebody thought, “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if we got the girl from The Bad Seedto play a killer mom?” And yes, that’s hilarious—in theory. In practice, it’s ninety minutes of Patty McCormack mugging for the camera while everyone else tries to pretend they’re in a real movie.
She’s the only reason to watch. Every arched eyebrow, every unhinged smile, every scene where she says something like “Jessica Ann deserves that plaque!” as if she’s fighting for her daughter’s Olympic gold medal—it’s comedy gold.
Final Thoughts: A Participation Trophy in Horror
Mommy is not scary. It’s not thrilling. It’s not even so-bad-it’s-good fun—it’s just awkward, plodding, and tonally confused. The murders are bland, the family drama is forced, and the narration is laughably bad. Its only redeeming quality is Patty McCormack, who chews through the scenery like she’s trying to win a lifetime achievement award in “crazy eyes.”
If you want to see a movie about obsessive moms, watch Carrie. If you want PTA horror, watch The Faculty. If you want to watch Patty McCormack pretend she’s auditioning for Dance Moms: Homicide Edition, then by all means, Mommy is your film.
