52 Films by Women Vol 6. 36. UMMA (Director: Iris K. Shim)
Stage 6, the specialist arm of Sony Pictures, deserves
credit for releasing a high number of films by first-time female
writer-directors. In the last two years, we’ve seen The Broken Hearts
Gallery (writer-director Natalie Krinsky), Yellow Rose (a
Filipino-American musical written and directed by Diane Paragas) and A
Mouthful of Air (writer-director Amy Koppelman). The company is
described as acquiring and marketing low-budget films, having slam-dunked with
the Insidious movie franchise almost a decade ago. Their latest
release is Umma, a Korean American horror film in which a
reclusive, electricity-fearing Korean American accountant turned beekeeper,
Amanda (Sandra Oh from the TV series Grey’s Anatomy and Killing
Eve) faces the spirit of her dead Umma or mother. Meanwhile, Amanda’s
daughter, Chris (Fivel Stewart) comes to understand that her mother might
literally be gaslighting her – seriously, Amanda has no battery-operated
flashlights, only gas lamps.
As horror films go – and this one is under 80 minutes long,
though imdb alleges it runs 83 minutes (the movie database website is gaslighting
me) – Umma underperformed at the US box office in its opening
weekend (18-20 March 2022), grossing only $915,290 from 805 screens. Its screen
average was only $500 below X, the other big horror film release
of the weekend, but it isn’t destined to live long in multiplexes across North
America. As Korean American films go, it won’t reach the relative high-water
mark of Lee Isaac Chung’s Minari (cumulative worldwide gross $15
million), and it could negatively define Korean Americans as clingy domestic
abusers. There is a point at which Amanda and Chris slug each other in the face
– a sort of slap-punch - and I briefly mused, ‘I thought we weren’t supposed to
see women being hit in the face anymore’. Still, Umma is compact
and gets to the point, even if it promises a moment when Sandra Oh is possessed
by electricity and causes chaos. Reader, this does not happen.
Like all good horror films, Umma begins with a
‘grabber’, a striking yet enigmatic opening in which a vulnerable character
screams while electricity races across the screen. The traumatised young girl
is young Soo Hyun (Hana Kim) who we discover was punished by her mother for
being disobedient. Now an adult, with her name changed to Amanda, Soo Hyun
lives alone with her daughter and keeps bees. She refuses to allow anything
electrical in the house and uses a gas oven. Poor Chris apparently pleaded to
be home-schooled and chose beekeeping as the perfect mother-daughter hobby.
Nevertheless, Chris resents being laughed at by other children – she rides a
bicycle, as if that is a crime against nature. She dreams of leaving the nest
and going to (the fictitious) West Mesa University, which may as well be
Whatsamatta U, if you are fans of The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle.
The family are visited by the friendly and faux ignorant
storekeeper Danny (Dermot Mulroney) who is very happy to take Amanda’s jars of
honey. ‘I can’t sell these fast enough,’ he gushes. ‘They’ve gone viral,
endorsed by someone called an influencer. I don’t understand it.’ Of course
Danny understands it but he’s trying to be charmingly gauche, and we remember
with some pleasure that Mulroney was once a credible leading man in films such
as My Best Friend’s Wedding. Is it too much to ask for him
to lean against Sandra Oh on a movie poster? Yes, it is. Danny knows not to
park too close to the house and to leave his mobile phone in the glove
compartment. He has heard about Amanda’s reaction. What happens if Amanda is
exposed to electricity? ‘She gets sick,’ Chris tells River (Odeya Rush),
Danny’s college-age niece. The two girls exchange niceties in Danny’s store. ‘I
like your make up,’ says Chris. ‘I like your freckles,’ replies River. When Chris
returns home with her face made up, Amanda asks, ‘What’s that?’
Amanda’s quiet life is disrupted by the appearance of her
uncle (Tom Yi), who comes bearing a box of Amanda’s mother’s belongings – and
her ashes. ‘When she died, she called out your name – and you weren’t there,’
moans the uncle who passed Chris on the dusty road and spoke to her in Korean. Not
only did Chris not understand him but she didn’t even think to ask whether they
are related – her mother is the only Korean in town. Uncle describes Amanda’s
mother as a powerful woman, ‘you know what she was like’ and can’t wait to get
rid of her belongings, though not without moaning that Amanda is hard to find. Living
without electricity has its advantages – no social media presence. Amanda
eventually tells Chris that they had a visitor, after Chris finds an old Korean
gown and tries it on, standing by the window (as you do) in order to give
Amanda a fright. ‘Where did you find that?’ Amanda asks.
Early in the film, there is a lightning storm and Amanda has
a panic attack. ‘Don’t worry,’ Chris consoles her, ‘the lightning is far away.
It can’t get you.’ However, even if lightning doesn’t strike, Umma might.
Amanda starts seeing and hearing her mother, which on a farm in the middle of
nowhere, isn’t great – and she is unable to call the emergency services. Her
insurance premium must be huge.
The film boasts Sam Raimi as an executive producer and
includes an Evil Dead homage when a tentacle grabs Amanda and
threatens to pull her into the ground. ‘You call that buried?’ cries the spirit
of her mother in Korean. Umma and the film have something in common – they are both
in need of a plot. Amanda/Soo Hyun continues to hallucinate. Beekeeper hat on,
she sees Umma, beekeeper hat off, she doesn’t. During game night – they play
Rummikub – River and Chris leave Danny and Amanda to it. River reveals that she
brought her phone. Chris is shocked but accepts that it didn’t affect her
mother. Something is up.
A few times, Amanda goes down to the cellar to store some
goods away. We see a few lamps with plugs removed. You wonder fleetingly who
takes away her garbage. Later, Chris will go down into the cellar and discover
the power switch. It is at this point that I expected something explosive.
Amanda does indeed become her mother. It won’t surprise you
to learn that the final confrontation in which the spirit of the past is laid
to rest is somewhat underwhelming. Shim doesn’t fully embrace the film’s genre
elements. There is a notable absence of blood and gore. There is also very little
suspense; this is low-stakes horror. The sound design goes into overdrive,
though mostly during the end credits, during which creepy effects and string
instruments are deployed.
Umma isn’t subtle, but it features some nice
bee photography – as well as a fantasy sequence in which bees gather at the
window – maybe they want to see Chris in her gown. Oh is not particularly
subtle in her performance but it is good to see her in a semi-villainous turn as
the possessed Soo Hyun. Shim has assembled some unusual elements, but the
horror genre makes for bland seasoning. Credit though for the cameo by the Kumiho,
the nine-tailed fox spirit, reminiscent of a rabid Basil Brush.
Reviewed at Cineworld Dover (Kent), Screen Four, Monday
21 March 2022, 19:30 screening
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