Umma

Umma (2022) – A Ghost Story Rooted in Generational Trauma

Umma is a 2022 supernatural horror film written and directed by Iris K. Shim, starring Sandra Oh in a rare leading role within the genre. Produced by Sam Raimi, the film tells a haunting and emotionally layered story that explores themes of family, cultural identity, generational trauma, and the fear of becoming what we fear the most—our parents.

The story centers on Amanda, a Korean-American single mother living off the grid with her teenage daughter, Chrissy, on a remote farm. Amanda claims to have an “allergy” to electricity, choosing a quiet life away from the modern world. She homeschools Chrissy, tends to bees, and avoids all contact with her past. However, her peaceful life is disrupted when the ashes of her estranged mother—her “Umma”—are delivered to her doorstep. The arrival of the ashes awakens terrifying memories, guilt, and a vengeful spirit that Amanda had long tried to bury along with her cultural heritage.

Sandra Oh delivers a compelling and emotionally nuanced performance as Amanda. Her character is torn between the trauma of her upbringing and the desire to be a loving, present mother to her daughter. As Amanda begins to experience visions, sleepwalking episodes, and ghostly apparitions, she is forced to confront the dark legacy left by her own mother, who was abusive and overbearing in Amanda’s childhood. The film's horror emerges not only from supernatural elements but also from the psychological weight of inherited trauma and unhealed wounds.

Fivel Stewart portrays Chrissy, Amanda’s daughter, who begins to question her mother’s fear of the outside world. Her longing for independence and understanding of her Korean heritage creates tension with Amanda, who has erased her cultural roots out of fear and pain. This mother-daughter relationship becomes the emotional core of the film, highlighting how trauma can echo across generations—and how healing can only begin through acknowledgement and connection.

Visually, Umma is restrained but effective. Rather than relying on jump scares or heavy CGI, the film builds dread through atmosphere, quiet moments, and subtle symbolism. The presence of the ghost is unsettling, yet it is Amanda’s internal conflict that serves as the true source of horror. Korean cultural elements, such as ancestral rites and spiritual beliefs, add depth to the narrative and distinguish the film from typical American horror.

While some critics felt that the film didn’t fully capitalize on its horror potential—citing a lack of sustained tension or scare factor—others appreciated its introspective approach. It’s less about terror and more about the weight of memory, silence, and the longing for closure. The film's short runtime of 83 minutes does limit character development in places, but its focus on emotional storytelling remains consistent throughout.

In the end, Umma is a deeply personal horror tale that uses the supernatural to examine real-life pain. It stands out for its cultural authenticity and thoughtful performances, especially from Sandra Oh. Though it may not satisfy those looking for high-octane horror, it offers something rarer: a quiet, unsettling meditation on the ghosts that live within us.