Umma

In a remote stretch of the American Midwest, Amanda has carved out a quiet life far from the bustle of modernity, tending bees, chickens, and a modest honey business with her young daughter. Their farm operates on a rhythm of simple labor and self‑reliance, a sanctuary where technology is almost mythic and the land itself feels like a protective veil. The tranquility is both a comfort and a fragile veneer, hinting at unspoken tensions that linger beneath the surface of everyday chores.

When a small suitcase arrives from a distant homeland, containing the cremated remains of Umma, Amanda’s estranged mother, the delicate balance of their isolation begins to shift. The unexpected inheritance carries the weight of a painful past and cultural disconnection, prompting Amanda to confront memories she has long kept at bay. As the quiet farm becomes a place where heritage and history press inward, the atmosphere turns subtly unsettling, suggesting that the legacy left behind may be more intimate—and more haunting—than mere ancestry.

Alongside her daughter, Chrissy, who is growing restless and curious about a life beyond the fields, Amanda must navigate the growing sense that the past is not simply a story told in whispers but a presence that seeps into the very air they breathe. The film’s tone blends pastoral serenity with an undercurrent of dread, using the vast, open landscape to amplify feelings of isolation and the uncanny. As the sisterhood between mother and daughter is tested, the audience is invited to wonder what it means to inherit more than a name, and whether the walls of their farm can contain the ghosts of unresolved family ties.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 00:18