Mamma unfolds around an ordinary family situation: Norman Mine is visiting his family in Rome and preparing to return to his life in London. His mother repeatedly asks whether he has packed his luggage, folded his clothes, checked his ticket and completed his online check-in.
What begins as maternal concern gradually becomes a source of irritation. Norman insists that he is an adult and can manage these things himself. His mother’s response, that he becomes irritated too easily, immediately shifts the dynamic again. Care, dependence, frustration and affection continually overlap, revealing a relationship in which neither mother nor son comfortably occupies the position the other assigns them.
Around this exchange, domestic life continues. The television and news remain constantly present. His mother irons clothes. His brother checks himself in the mirror before taking the dog outside. These peripheral actions are not simply background; they construct a portrait of the family through its habits, repetitions and apparently insignificant routines.
The two-channel format allows these simultaneous moments to coexist, shifting attention away from a single narrative towards the wider ecology of the home.
Beneath the humour and irritation is a quieter transition. The children have grown up and established lives elsewhere, while the mother remains within a domestic environment still structured around caring for them. Mamma considers what happens to the relationship between mother and child when the child no longer needs to be mothered, but the gestures of motherhood remain.
Spoken in Neapolitan dialect and presented without subtitles, the work retains the specificity and speed of the family exchange. Meaning emerges not only through words, but through interruption, repetition, gesture, tone and the volatile intimacy of people who know one another extremely well.
Shot and edited by: Norman Mine
Featuring: Norman Mine and his family
Location: Rome, Italy