“I am not a very good mother, am I?” says Helen, the elderly, estranged, largely absent mother of artist Lisa Selby. There’s perhaps a modicum of regret in the statement, but no apology. In fact, with her plummy accent, fake-fur hat cocked jauntily and a can of Special Brew in her hand, she is as matter-of-fact about her failings as a parent as she is about her drug preferences. “Opiates in general,” she says, eyes narrowing in pleasure as she takes a puff on her spliff. “Also, I like psychedelic drugs.”
For Selby, the drugs were her main rival for the affections of the wayward, glamorous mother who left her with a childminder as a baby and never came back. Selby was raised by a loving father, but the absence of a maternal figure cut deep. Both the errant mother and the heroin that stole Helen away from her daughter exerted an uneasy fascination on Selby as she grew up. This impressionistic British documentary collage, collectively made by Selby, co-director Rebecca Lloyd-Evans, Alex Fry, Josie Cole and producer Natasha Dack Ojumu, explores motherhood, addiction, inherited pain and artistic growth with candour, reflection and love – complicated, knotty, conflicted love, but love nonetheless.
