UMMA (2022)

Studio:     Sony Pictures
Director:    Iris K. Shim
Writer:     Iris K. Shim
Producer:  Sam Raimi, Zainab Azizi
Stars:     Sandra Oh, Fivel Stewart, MeeWha Alana Lee, Tom Yi, Odeya Rush, Dermot Mulroney

Review Score:

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Summary:

A traumatized single parent must confront ghosts from her past after her abusive mother’s death sparks a terrifying transformation.

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Synopsis:     Show/Hide Spoilers

Amanda, whose Korean birth name was Soo-hyun, suffers ongoing trauma from physical abuse perpetrated by her mother, nicknamed “Umma.” Amanda develops an intense fear of electronics due to Umma repeatedly torturing her with a lamp’s broken electrical wire whenever Amanda ran away from home or threatened to leave. Sixteen years later, Amanda works as a beekeeper and lives with her teenage daughter Chris in a remote farmhouse where electricity is forbidden.

Amanda’s estranged uncle Mr. Kang comes to the house to inform Amanda that her mother died. Kang tells his niece that Umma’s dying word was Amanda’s given name. Kang blames Amanda for Umma’s death since she abandoned her all those years ago. As he hands over a small suitcase containing Umma’s remains and personal possessions, Kang also says Umma is now trapped in this world like a “gwishin” because Amanda didn’t fulfill her obligations as a daughter. Amanda kicks Kang out of her house. Kang warns that Umma’s anger will grow as long as she remains in the suitcase, and her pain will become poison that seeps into Amanda.

Chris bikes to see family friend Danny, who runs a local store and helps Amanda sell her honey, for beekeeping supplies. Chris becomes drawn to Danny’s teenage niece River, since Chris has no friends her own age due to Amanda keeping her sheltered at home.

Amanda finds a dress, a mask, and an urn containing Umma’s ashes inside the suitcase. Amanda begins repeatedly having haunting hallucinations of Umma throughout the house.

Amanda learns Chris is thinking about leaving home when she finds a college application Danny gave her. Amanda confronts Danny by explaining how she became a beekeeper as a means of bonding with Chris, who was fascinated with the practice as a child. Danny suggests that Amanda needs to consider letting Chris make friends while forging a life of her own.

In another haunting vision, Umma taunts Amanda by saying she couldn’t live without her, and now can’t die without her because they are one. Amanda finds Chris wearing a handmade robe that belonged to Umma and angrily locks it in the storm cellar where she hides everything electrical. Amanda snaps at Chris when she tries asking about the suitcase.

During the night, Chris tries to secretly investigate the storm cellar. Mimicking her mother’s voice and behavior, Amanda senses her daughter’s disobedience. Amanda becomes inexplicably possessed to momentarily trap Chris in the cellar.

Chris asks about a framed photo of an old woman. Amanda ultimately admits that she lied to Chris about her real grandparents. Amanda briefly describes Umma as Chris looks through the suitcase containing the urn of remains, dress, and mask that Amanda identifies as an heirloom worn by women in their family for generations. Amanda explains how the items are supposed to be used in a ceremony to usher a spirit to the afterlife. Amanda also finds a music box whose memories briefly put her in a catatonic state.

Danny and River come to the house for a game night. Chris learns River stuck up for her when local teens made fun of her analog lifestyle. Chris also discovers River sneaked a cell phone into the house, which reveals Amanda doesn’t have a true electronics-related sickness like she has always claimed. Chris later proves her suspicion by turning the house’s power back on without any consequence to Amanda.

While Chris sleeps, Amanda tells her how Umma lived a good life in Korea, but everything changed when she followed her husband to America. Amanda ultimately absorbed Umma’s worsening rage. She then made a vow that she would never become like her mother.

Chris finds her college application destroyed. Amanda claims Umma destroyed it because she fears Chris is running away from them. Chris accuses her mother of being psychotic. Amanda becomes condescending as she taunts Chris about an inability to live without her mother. Chris confronts Amanda about her imaginary electricity phobia. Amanda slaps Chris and Chris slaps back. Chris accuses Amanda of becoming her mother before biking away in frustration.

Amanda haphazardly buries Umma’s remains in anger. Amanda then has a haunting experience where a ribbon from Umma’s dress tries pulling her into the ground and the dress itself suffocates her.

Chris confronts Danny for not telling her the truth about her mother’s imaginary illness. River catches up to Chris on her way back home and encourages Chris to pursue her own path by going to college.

Chris returns home to find the buried urn mysteriously returned to a foyer table and pictures of Amanda with Umma all over the house. Chris sees Amanda wearing Umma’s dress and behaving oddly.

Amanda makes Chris participate in a memorial ceremony for Umma. Amanda becomes possessed by her mother as she tells Chris how Umma would torture Amanda with the electrical wire so she could feel Umma’s pain. Through Amanda, Umma claims her daughter never learned that she could not escape. While wearing the heirloom mask, Amanda transforms into a frightening ghoul who attacks Chris. Chris knocks the mask off of Amanda’s face, which breaks her enchantment.

Umma suddenly pulls Amanda into the ground. Amanda enters a vision where she confronts her mother. Umma blames Amanda for being selfish. Amanda expresses sympathy for Umma giving up her Korean identity to follow her husband to a foreign land. However, Umma projected that cruel treatment onto Amanda, which is why she had to leave. Amanda says Umma has to leave now too, because they cannot go on intertwined like this. Amanda pulls away from Umma while promising to give her the “jesa” ceremony to bring her peace and unburden Amanda from her pain. Amanda crawls out of the ground and back into reality.

Amanda and Chris properly bury Umma’s ashes and ritualistically pray over her grave. Danny helps Chris, who now has her own cell phone, transport her things to go off to college.

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Review:

Something I envy about mainstream media critics like Richard Roeper, or whoever qualifies these days, is that they usually only write one review a week. It’s not the decreased workload that’s most attractive about that scenario, although it’s definitely a plus. It’s their freedom to sit on a movie for several days and let thoughtful insights gestate before committing anything to paper.

I certainly don’t need more than two hours tops to say all that needs to be said about “Amityville Ouija Werewolf” or “Frankenstein vs. Sharkasaurus” (not real movies… yet). But I could probably use some more reflection on “Umma,” a horror movie whose metaphor follows the fear of turning into your mother, rather than rushing to write this in an afternoon so I can proof and post it the following morning.

Since I already knew the movie’s premise: a troubled woman confronts her own problematic parenthood when she inherits her abusive mother’s ashes, I’d already preformed what experiences varied audiences were likely to have with the film. I imagined younger twentysomethings and teens maybe hearing it was a horror movie, then being disappointed to find “Umma’s” terror is more thematic than tangible. Maybe those who didn’t know better would be caught off guard by an almost complete lack of scares, suspense, gore, and expected paranormal possession tropes.

I, on the other hand, was pretty pumped for an introspective examination of a phobia that’s very real to me. Without giving my exact age away, although I probably have before, let’s just say I’m closer to 50 than I am to 30. From complaining of creaks in my bones that weren’t there before to the way I might shuffle around a room, I’m regularly reminded of how many behaviors I’ve consciously and unconsciously inherited from my father. As he continues approaching death, and as my life continues to have less than half of its total hours remaining, I routinely ruminate on aging, dying, and how my parents affect my views on both topics.

So even though I’m usually a guy who goes for killer dolls and giant monsters, I went into “Umma” expecting, or at least hoping, for a cinematic essay on the horror of realizing how much of our identity may be beyond our control, and how that realization can create resentment that influences relationships with family members. Maybe that put unfair pressure on the movie to deliver more than it ever intended to offer. Because what “Umma” ended up being to me is just a skin-deep scratch on the subject dressed up as a simple supernatural chiller.

Amanda and her teenage daughter Chris get a standard introduction. An early montage sees the duo giggling in their kitchen followed by cozying up under blankets as they read a book together. You know, typical “Aww, aren’t they cute” stuff. Being beaten by a busted lamp wire as a child gave Amanda an intense aversion to electricity, so now she lives an analog life on a remote farm where she somewhat obliviously pushes a sheltered lifestyle onto Chris too.

The traumatized past she ran away from all those years ago finally catches up to Amanda when her estranged uncle delivers a suitcase full of her mother’s remains and personal possessions. Immediately after, haunting hallucinations cause Amanda to believe that, even in death, her mother has no intention of ever letting her go. Like it or not though, she’ll have to face the figurative and literal ghosts head on. If she doesn’t, she may inherit her mother’s wicked ways and become a similarly sinister specter for Chris too.

I wish I had the temerity to expound on the movie’s metaphoric virtues with astute analysis regarding the parent-child dynamics at work in “Umma.” I’m sure if I sat with the film for four more eight-hour days, I could come up with something pointed and poignant to say about it. Or maybe not, because I don’t think “Umma” inspired me enough to dig deeper into its minimal material even though my mind was eager to absorb its message.

“Umma” plays exactly like a low-profile Blumhouse production from the 2010s. There’s nearly no blood. The titular character’s offscreen demise is the only death. As for “horror,” there’s a small palmful of ghostly gotchas, e.g. being pulled into darkness by an unseen entity, and that’s it. Then you have a cast that’s just as small as the scares mostly milling between one exterior and two interior locations. Now that I think about it, I’m kind of surprised “Umma” wasn’t produced by Netflix.

This is basically an economical drama that’s just a bit better than an average theatrical thriller because it has excellent actors and a cultural twist on a common “vengeful ghost” setup. There’s quite a lot of Sandra Oh internalizing Amanda’s pain, but who better to put in a performance that’s predominantly built on expressiveness and concerned looks on her face? What “Umma” isn’t is the toothy treatise on battling skeletons that have transported from one person’s closet to another. I wish it were deeper, and darker, than it actually is. If “Umma” had more meat, I might have more to mull over.

Review Score: 60

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