I honestly didn’t think Tate Taylor, of all people, had something like this in him. I can’t say I’ve been much of a fan of his work, but his new film, Ma, is probably one of the most entertaining films I’ve seen this year. Granted, it’s not a particularly deep or thoughtful film. It’s basically a modernized exploitation movie, taking cues from films like What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, Whoever Slew Auntie Roo?, and other films of the psycho-biddy subgenre, which was even recently seen in Greta earlier this year.

Octavia Spencer is the reason to see Ma. Plain and simple. She commands the frame in every scene she’s in, and when she isn’t around, you’ll be growing impatient waiting for her next appearance. Her performance in this is amusing, sympathetic, baffling, and terrifying, sometimes all at the exact same time. Spencer has been a regular collaborator with Taylor, appearing in all but one of his films, and even receiving her sole Oscar win based on her performance in The Help, a deserved win for an otherwise not-very-good movie.

But before she was called “Ma,” she was simply Sue Ann, a quiet, lonely, and unassuming veterinarian in a small town. We don’t even see her until after several scenes of setting up our protagonist, Maggie (Diana Silvers), a high school student who is taken back to her mom, Erica’s (Juliette Lewis), hometown. Maggie is slowly getting used to being in a new school, but soon makes some friends. One day, they try to convince strangers to buy them drinks, and the one that ends up helping just so happens to be Sue Ann. She later invites them to party in her basement, and they take up on the offer. Things are great…at least, until they are not.

The film slowly reveals more and more details about Sue Ann’s life as the film goes on, and it takes its time with it. It’s effective because it becomes clear that something is noticeably off about her, but you don’t know what exactly it is. You do quickly find out that she has a connection to some of the parents of the kids. One in particular is the father of one of the boys, played by Luke Evans, who is connected to some deep traumatic event from her time at high school.

Once you see some of the clues in these brief flashbacks, it’ll be pretty quick for anyone to get a basic idea of where things are going. However, the joy of the film comes out of seeing Sue perform increasingly bizarre and violent actions. The film is surprisingly harsh and brutal with some of the violence, and it’s clear that Spencer is having the time of her life with this character. We all know she’s a good actress, but in recent times, it’s rare to see one of her caliber, especially for a Black woman, to embrace this kind of camp horror role. She’s above this material – as are most of the actors in this, if we’re being honest – but she is having a great time, so you end up having a great time with her.

Of course, the film does have its issues. Many of Maggie’s friends are bland, and don’t serve much purpose aside from being a potential victim. Given his connection to The Help, it’s worth noting that Taylor doesn’t have the most elegant grasp on handling race in his films. There is one moment in the third act where race is addressed in a direct way, but it’s so disconnected from everything else in the entire movie. It’s something worth exploring, and could’ve easily provided some more depth, aside from some of Spencer’s impulses to lean in on certain aspects of the “mammy” stereotype, which I’m not totally convinced builds to a greater point. A lot of potential for complexity and commentary is mostly thrown to the side.

Despite its aggressive simplicity, I did find myself thoroughly enjoying Ma. It’s a trashy, campy, funny, and vicious little movie that is centered on one hell of a performance from Octavia Spencer, who makes the film more than worthwhile. It’s a solidly constructed movie, Tate Taylor’s filmmaking hardly breaks ground, but he handles Scotty Landes’ script with just enough finesse to keep things intriguing and engaging. It fails to explore some potentially interesting ideas about the experience of people-of-color seeking acceptance in mostly white spaces, and instead favors for standard genre thrills, which it does well enough to not let the wasted subtext sting too much. If anything, it makes me want to see Octavia Spencer tackle horror more often.