What makes Mother and Son only somewhat of an experiment is Sokurov's careful ambiguity over what exactly the nature of the mother and son's relationship is. Is the son's unflinching servitude to his mother one out of love? Duty? Sexual desire? Guilt? Is it a dream, or a fantasy? There wouldn't be so much to question had Sokurov not made the woman so weak, and the son's devotion so strong. The literal carrying of the mother by the son adds to my questioning to its nature, and adds to the romance (be it sexual, or not).

To interpret it as sexual may be missing the point (or, realistically, may be marking it). A portrait of unflinching love is easy to be interpreted as more cynical and disturbing - as opposed to touching, revealing natural (and societal) human cynicism over how women and men (and mothers and sons) interact. This is probably even more exposed in Sokurov's sequel of sorts, Father and Son (which I have not yet seen) - a film that has similarly been interpreted as sexual, perhaps on the basis of how one feels men should interact with one another. I find it easiest to interpret it all as fantasy of desire - not lust - but simply a son who misses his mother. Viewing the film from this light allows it to be a moving and poetic film on death, a theme covered much differently in Russian Ark.

Not to say there is no possible cynicism involved in interpreting it as a fantasy. The weakness of the mother (who is admittedly ill) in comparison to her son allows the male to tower over the female. There is no woman who signifies what females are to anyone more than their own mother, and this one is dependant in all aspects. Perhaps the longing is that of unmet affection, or domination - but my optimist gut (even in hindsight of Sokurov's more cynical Russian Ark) tells me it's simply the presence of one's mother.