Umma Review (Film, 2022)
content warning: child abuse, gore, animal death, flashing lights, foul language
Editorial note: Umma is a horror film confronting the lasting trauma of child abuse. There is a recurring motif shot in extreme closeup of a hand being injured, implied to be a recurring memory and nightmare of physical abuse. The abuse is discussed, but not shown beyond this few second recurring clip.
Amanda is a single mother living off the grid with her teenage daughter Chris. She has recurring nightmares of the abuse she faced as a child from her mother and does everything she can to ensure that her daughter never suffers the same way she did. Amanda is forced to confront her mother again when her uncle from South Korea brings her mothers’ ashes and belongings for Amanda to take care of. Now she’s convinced her mother is back, preying on her trauma and trying to once again control every aspect of her life.
Umma is writer/director Iris K. Shim’s new, incredibly stylish and thoughtful horror film. This is a ghost story confronting issues of identity, intergenerational trauma, and cycles of abuse from a Korean-American perspective.
Shim’s screenplay is written in a mix of Korean and English. It’s an intentional divide in the life of Amanda. Present Amanda, in her best effort to protect Chris from what she experienced growing up, does not expose her to any elements of Korean culture. They speak English and practice nothing from the culture. Amanda’s memories are in Korean. Her uncle does not speak any English, leading Amanda to immediately jump back into all the rules of her childhood for respecting her elders, serving without question, and speaking in Korean. Her memories of her mother, her Umma, are in Korean, and the haunting pulls her further and further into her past. It’s a brilliant use of language for metaphor and suspense.
Umma goes beyond that. Amanda is warned that her mother will become a gwisin, a vengeful spirit, if she is not properly laid to rest by her. Umma’s suitcase is adorned with an ornate scarf of kumiho, the Korean version of the nine-tailed fox. These are largely viewed as malevolent figures in Korean folklore, vicious shape-shifting beings filled with energy that prey on human flesh. Chris becomes drawn to the suitcase she was told not touch, leading her further into her heritage she was taught nothing about. Amanda reacts as strongly to the sudden appearance of her mother’s handmade hanbok as she does to the floating figure of her judgmental mother sneaking up behind her.
The kumiho connection is particularly striking. Amanda lives off the grid because she says electricity makes her sick. She breaks every appliance she finds on her property, severing power cords so they can never be used again. Anyone who visits has to leave their car turned off at the gate and turn off their cellphones. Even lightning in the distance causes a strong reaction. Her mother’s abuse centered around a figurative power struggle. The recurring nightmares of a hand being shocked with an exposed electrical cord while she begs Umma for mercy are terrifying. The kumiho are believed to have thousands of years of energy, and Umma views her kumiho scarf as one of her most prized possessions. Their collective power to harm comes from pure energy.
Umma is a horror film about mothers and daughters. Daughters will inevitably want to chase their own dreams in life rather than follow everything their mothers plan out for them. This will inevitably create conflict. Amanda is so terrified of becoming her own mother that she does not know how to respond to Chris trying to step into her own sense of independence. It’s bad enough being haunted by her mother; her daughter’s ambitions are forcing her to confront her own role and responsibility in protecting her daughter from the potential pain and struggle of a life beyond her protective eye.
Umma is a quiet, subtle horror film confronting some heavy themes through a haunting. Shim’s voice rings through every scene, providing a clear perspective on a style of story we don’t often get to see in American cinema. This is the rare haunted house film to use ghosts as a tool to enhance a strong story, not hide from uncomfortable discussions.
Umma is playing in theaters.
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