In breaking this one down, the examination must begin with a contrast of the social differences between mother Clara (Gemma Arterton) and daughter Eleanor (Saoirse Ronan). When we first meet Clara, she’s giving a scantily-clad lapdance which ends in a near miss of a sexual assault. Clara’s clothing is significantly different from that of her daughter: her see-through clothing advertises her status as a prostitute, whereas Eleanor takes pains to remain covered (and, presumably, chaste) in the form of jackets, sweaters and jeans. There’s a difference in speech as well, with Eleanor’s more refined speech and accent as opposed to the harsh tones and profanity-peppered speech of her mother (going so far as to tell her mother during an argument, “I hate the way you speak”). We do find out, though, that Eleanor was the product of a prostitute’s decision to give her child a better life, under the condition that she pay for her daughter’s upbringing at an orphanage in gold. Another condition of this separation is the instruction that Eleanor is to be told her mother is dead. Clara attempts to give her daughter – whom she could not bring herself to kill at birth – a better life not just in the way of education and shelter from the life of a prostitute, but also by removing the very stigma of having an association with her. So begins the deviation of the social motivators of the two women: while Clara calls herself as the one that “punish[es] those who prey on the weak,” Eleanor is obsessed with telling her story, which she knows to be forbidden. When Frank (Caleb Landry Jones) asks her how she remembers the notes to piano songs, Eleanor offers the moody reply of, “I remember everything. It’s a burden.” Eleanor’s knowledge and sentient mind makes her existence miserable, whereas Clara marks her existence in terms of her daughter’s care and social injustice. This marks them as pursuing two very different social goal that reflect their early socioeconomic environments. Clara fights to “curb the power of men” and give a voice to those who are like her: the socially downtrodden that are marginalized and victimized by the patriarchy. Eleanor, having never been exposed to this in her upbringing, has time to devote to other fancies: she plays piano, she writes stories, she longs for someone to understand her soul. Eleanor is the hausfrau that has the time to think deep thoughts, while Clara is the one that’s had to go through the school of hard knocks.

Where these two converge is the reality check of a mother’s love across these social boundaries. We see throughout the film that Clara is not only willing to isolate herself from her daughter for the sake of a more comfortable life, but also that she is willing to violate several rules of social order to ensure her survival. It is the sexual assault and literal infection of syphilis that prompts her to murder the man that forced her into prostitution, and she kills again in order to prevent the execution of her daughter at the hands of the Brethren. Likewise, she violates the edicts of the Brethren in order to save change Eleanor into a vampire, as she explains, “Women are not permitted to create” (side note: not touching the implications of that one with a ten foot pole or else we’ll be here all night). Later, though, Clara takes pains to shield her child from her own ways, as she will not permit Noel to engage in any physical contact with her in front of Eleanor, nor will she allow her to smoke, drink or have sex alongside the girls that work in her brothel. At several points, though, Clara tells her daughter, “You have no idea, no fucking idea, of what I do for you” and then does not give her the gory details. Clara is identified as a thief, whereas Eleanor is taken for the angel of death in at least two instances, effectively demonizing one while elevating the other. Their social, and arguably moral, differences mask the broader underlying issue: Clara is willing to do anything to give her daughter a better life, whether it is selling her body or killing someone who wants to harm her.

It is through Clara’s sacrifices that Eleanor is afforded the luxury of life itself, marking their tale as not one of vampirism, but one of a mother’s love in the face of inevitable degradation. When Clara is about to be executed by the Brethren for her act of creating Eleanor (itself a technicality on which they can rid themselves of a rule-breaking, low-born woman in their ranks), her pleas are to spare her daughter’s life. “Do what you like with me, but leave her alone,” she pleads. She begs for her daughter and proclaims that the girl can’t survive on her own. In what she thinks are going to be her final words, she cries out, “Eleanor, my baby!” Clara’s motivation has revolved around her daughter; prostitution was simply a means to an end. It’s not the fight against men that drives her, or the need to protect the downtrodden, as Clara demonstrates throughout the film that is willing to use people for what they can provide her. No, Clara, does it all to protect her baby, as many a mother would. This changes the tone of the film sharply from a vampire drama to one of a mother that would do anything to make sure her beloved child survived and had a better life than she did.

It angers Clara when she’s concerned that Eleanor’s teachers think that she neglects her. “I’ve kept you safe!” she angrily tells her as she begs her daughter not to leave, revealing that it stings her to know that others think poorly of her parenting skills. However, in a beautiful moment, Clara later tells Eleanor, “I’m cutting you loose. You can’t stay with your mother all your life, can you?” Sure, she cries during the goodbye hug, but Clara recognizes that her daughter is grown and needs to strike out on her own. She has protected her daughter and given her a life that does not involve her selling her body and contracting disease. She has done her job, and realizes that she now needs to let her daughter go. “Look forward, not back,” she advises. And just like that, Byzantium goes from being a vampire film that features gender and class struggles to one that beautifully expresses the parental desire to give one’s child a better life.