When mommy returns home, her face is all covered in bandages. Mommy had an operation, but why? The ten-year-old twins doubt this woman is their mum, and therefore don't always obey her. The bandaged woman resorts to brute force, pushing the boys - maybe too far? But why does only one of the twins ever speak? And why does the woman never acknowledge the silent one? A (head) trip into an abyss of (self-)debasement and despair, where it's never clear who's actually (still) among the living and who's (already) back from beyond - if there's really any 'real' here at all.
Inspired as much by Georges Franju as by Lucio Fulci, Goodnight Mommy is a meditation on boundaries, transgressions, transcendence. Note the cuddly stuffed donkey on the boys' bunk bed: he's the rare ass in Surrealist cinema that doesn't come to a gruesome end.