Kim Ho-jung in The Mother and the Bear (TIFF)

In 2016, Canadian director Johnny Ma made a splash with his crime noir Old Stone, which won Best Canadian First Feature at the Toronto International Film Festival. For his latest film, which premiered at this year’s TIFF, he takes an entirely different tack with a sweet, amicable, and droll comedy that honors nosy, overprotective, and concerned mothers everywhere.

The matriarch in question is widow Sara (Kim Ho-jung), who travels all the way from South Korea to wintry Winnipeg after her only child, 26-year-old teacher Sumi (Leere Park), is placed in a coma following a slippery, icy fall. Local TV news spreads speculation that a frightened Sumi may have seen a bear wandering downtown, leading to her accident.

Sara has a rocky introduction to the capital city of Manitoba. Not only is it freezing, but the car a relative lends her is towed on her first day—snow concealed a fire hydrant she parked too close to. Staying in her daughter’s apartment, Sara snoops around, seeking clues about Sumi’s life and trying to answer the pressing question: Why has Sumi remained single? Among her discoveries is a vibrator, which Sara repurposes in a way the device was never intended—a sight gag that recurs throughout the movie.

While her daughter remains hospitalized, Sara becomes determined to find Sumi a suitable groom. One of the first men she meets in this unfamiliar land is Min (Jonathan Kim), the perfect candidate. He’s Korean (a must), tall, handsome, and polite. However, her plans are dashed when she learns Min is dating her daughter’s White doctor. Undeterred, Sara perseveres. Following advice from an attending nurse, she joins an online dating service, posing as her daughter. This leads to her discovery of what “DTF” stands for, thanks to an adult photo. Although the movie is family-oriented, it would likely earn an R rating in the United States for this single image.

This comedy serves as both a foreboding warning and a charming advertisement for Canada’s fifth-largest city. (Winnipeg’s own filmmaker Guy Maddin even makes a cameo.) The relentless snow blanketing the screen is daunting—even a French bulldog looks grumpy on its walk—but Sara discovers a warm and welcoming community. This includes the manager of a local Korean restaurant, who just happens to be Min’s father.

Much to its credit, Ma’s screenplay avoids becoming entirely predictable, even though most characters—including Sara—undergo an awakening by the end. No tissues are needed for this one. While the pacing could use a bit more zip, it’s a heartwarming story that’s hard to resist.

Hopefully, Ma’s sanguine comedy will find a U.S. distributor. It would be the perfect movie to treat a special someone to on Mother’s Day.