A visually stunning film, Mother V follows one woman’s physically demanding and emotionally toiling journey — across Israel and towards understanding and forgiveness of her estranged son, who sits in prison, accused of espionage.

“I’m not sorry for selling the nuclear plant’s blueprints,” Menahem’s letter from long ago reads, “or for becoming Christian. I knew my family would suffer, but in life there’s no middle way.” Menahem’s characters is inspired by real-life spy Mordechai Vanunu.

After Hana’s husband Yoseph has a stroke, she’s convinced that her family is going to completely destroy itself if they don’t resolve their brooding and overcome their anger at her son. Hana is determined to leave Dimona and speak to her son for the first time in nine years. Despite her daughters’ resistance and the fact that her husband is in intensive care, she sneaks away, buys a bus ticket and sets out for Menahem’s holding cell near the Mediterranean. But her trip becomes more complicated after she’s tricked into getting on the wrong bus. Luckily, friendships emerge in unexpected places and the detours prove as necessary as the final destination.

Mother V uses the real-life story of Vanunu as inspiration to explore the complexity of family dynamics, recognizing how one splintered relationship can lead to fractures in others. At one point, Hana confides that when they were young, she and her husband used to go fishing together. The lazy hours spent loitering by the water were some of the sweetest memories they shared. But after her son’s traitorous behavior, her husband distanced himself from his wife. Hana’s convinced that he holds her responsible for having done a poor job of raising Menahem. They still have their fishing poles, she laments, but now the sea is too far away.

The film’s stunning cinematography captures the beauty of Israel’s varied landscape. After stepping off the bus, Hana’s small stature is swallowed by the massive Negev desert that surrounds her. The camera pans to offer a grand and mesmerizing scene: as the sun begins to sets, the sky fades into a pastel pink and the dusty mountains reflect a soft shade of orange.

But the external beauty of her surroundings contradicts with Hana’s internal tumult. Throughout the film, the anxiety she feels can be read from her tense eyes and her stoic yet strained expression. While she worries about the fate of her son, Hana is also tortured by fears that she’s failed as a mother. What kind of a woman raises a terrorist? Why did her son completely reject the values and tradition with which he was raised? Is a child always a product of his upbringing, and if not, at what point does he become his own person?

These questions continue to boil inside of Hana as she learns indirectly about forgiveness and love through the strangers she meets on her journey. Her most unlikely friendship comes from a young Bedouin boy. While Hana is running towards her son, the tough Bedouin kid is trying to escape from his family. But what starts out as a hostile interaction soon develops into a compassionate relationship, the hot desert sun and unexpected troubles making Hana and her young companion increasingly dependent on each other.

Throughout the film, Hana struggles between wanting change and having to accept things as they are. She asserts independence when she buys her bus ticket, but it soon becomes clear that her self-determination is only an illusion, wishful thinking on the part of a woman who has lived her life pleasing others.

In the end, Mother V teaches that life is a journey that no one can control. People don’t act as much as they react. Psychological scars, nature, and fundamental needs shackle humanity together and prevent total freedom or independence. Hana isn’t driving the bus. Rather, she sits in the back seat, trying to direct the driver as best she can.