Movie Review: ‘Little Mother Lies’ – When Protection Demands a Lie

‘Little Mother Lies‘ is a short film directed by Amanda Deering Jones that poses a haunting question about a mother’s sacrifice in protecting her child. How far is a mother willing to go to protect her child, even when they don’t have to? This 14-minute film, written by Kitty Edwinson, aims to answer this question.

In its brief runtime, the film captures a complex, emotionally charged snapshot of family, addiction, and the price of love all unfolding within the walls of one quiet home that becomes a pressure cooker of memory and regret.

The story is deceptively simple yet layered with emotional texture. Dorie and her sister Marinka share an evening, seated at the dining table, reminiscing about old times and lost years. Their laughter feels fragile, the kind that comes from people trying too hard to pretend everything is fine. In the other room, Dorie’s son, Owen, is fighting his own demons, writhing through withdrawal symptoms while secretly searching his aunt’s belongings for something to steal before he leaves unannounced.

Amanda Deering Jones approaches this story with subtlety and restraint. She doesn’t lean on melodrama at all. Instead, she trusts silence, glances, and atmosphere to do the heavy lifting. Her direction creates a space that feels lived-in and tense at the same time. The setting is a home filled with both warmth and unease. The film feels almost theatrical in its focus, with the intimacy of a stage play and the emotional realism of a documentary.

Pascale Roger-McKeever shines as Dorie, giving a performance grounded in quiet anguish and convincing strength. She plays a mother torn between her instincts to protect and the recognition that her protection might be part of the problem. There’s a deep sadness in her eyes, even. The kind that suggests a lifetime of compromises and guilt. Through subtle gestures and pauses, Pascale Roger-McKeeve captures a woman reliving her past even as she tries to rewrite it. Her portrayal feels painfully real, as though she’s been carrying this burden long before the camera started rolling.

On the other hand, Emile Talbot’s portrayal of Marinka provides a sharp counterpoint. At first, she’s lively, even hopeful, having reconnected with her sister after so long. But as the evening progresses, her composure cracks. You see flashes of the bitterness and exhaustion that have shaped her. Her joy fades as old patterns resurface, and the reason for her long absence from Dorie’s life begins to make sense. The performance brings dimension to Marinka, making her both sympathetic and deeply human, someone who has learned to survive by keeping her distance.

The film’s visual language adds another layer to its storytelling. Set entirely within Marinka’s home, the cinematography uses light and framing to underscore the film’s emotional undercurrents. The lighting is soft but shadowed, creating a sense of intimacy that occasionally turns suffocating. For Dorie and Owen, the house feels like a trap more than a haven as they are on the run. For Marinka, it’s her home, her safe space that she is willing to share with her sister. You can help but feel the inevitable doom that the reconnection of these sisters is likely to face.

Even at just 14 minutes, ‘Little Mother Lies‘ manages to feel full-bodied. The pacing is deliberate, allowing each moment to sink in, each silence, each uneasy glance between the sisters, every sound from the other room. When the credits roll, it doesn’t feel like the story has ended. If anything, it feels like the prelude to a much larger storm. You’re left wondering what Dorie’s next move will be, whether she’ll continue to shield Owen or finally face the truth. And you wonder how Marinka will cope now that the illusion of peace has been shattered.

There’s a raw honesty in how the film approaches its subject. It doesn’t preach or dramatise addiction; it simply shows the quiet wreckage it leaves behind. Jones and Edwinson give us a family that feels familiar — not perfect or noble, but flawed and painfully human. Their choices make sense even when they’re destructive, and that’s what makes the film so affecting.

In the end, ‘Little Mother Lies‘ is a small film with a big emotional footprint. It stays with you long after it has ended. Not because of what happens, but because of what doesn’t. I will score this short film 3.5 out of 5 stars.