It seems strange to say it now, but I was initially lukewarm on Ari Aster’s 2018 debut feature Hereditary. I think the issue was all the praise that had been heaped upon it by critics and genre fans, some anointing it the most frightening horror film they’d ever seen.
High praise, indeed. So, when I finally got around to watching the movie, these accolades had me prepared for the horror experience of a lifetime.
And it was not.
I liked Hereditary; it was skillfully made, and featured some excessively creepy moments. Still, it didn’t even make my year-end list of the top 10 horror films.
So, in 2019, I went into Aster’s follow-up movie, Midsommar, with more tempered expectations. I also avoided trailers and reviews, so as not to be swayed one way or the other.
It proved a good strategy: Midsommar absolutely blew me away! So much so that it inspired me to give Hereditary a second chance. I liked Hereditary a lot more on that follow-up viewing, and now acknowledge its standing as one of the great modern horror films.
Midsommar deserves a similar place of honor. It is the movie that showed me just how skillful a filmmaker Ari Aster is, how his methodical, detailed approach generates dread in a way the average viewer does not anticipate, where seemingly random moments move the story forward, and simple conversations reveal deep-rooted traumas.
Several months after the tragic loss of her entire family, college student Dani (Florence Pugh) agrees to tag along with her longtime boyfriend Christian (Jack Raynor) and his pals Josh (William Jackson Harper) and Mark (Will Poulter) on a trip to Sweden. They were all invited by exchange student Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) to visit the Hegra, a spiritual commune he calls home, during one of its biggest festivals of the year: the nine-day celebration of Midsommar.
Still reeling from the murder/suicide that claimed the lives of her parents and sister, Dani is hoping this trip will bring her closer to Christian, who, in recent months, has been pulling away from her. What Dani will find instead is an awakening of a different sort, where bizarre customs and unusual traditions force her to see her relationship with Christian in a new light, and embrace the possibility of finding the inner peace she desperately seeks, with or without him.
The pre-title sequence of Midsommar is as devastating as they come. Dani, reacting to a cryptic e-mail she received from her sister, as well as the fact she has been unable to reach either her or their parents, results in a nervous call to Christian. Christian, at the time, is at a bar with Josh, Mark, and Pelle. He tries to calm Dani, reassuring her everything will be fine, and that her sister is just looking for attention.
We see this exchange from Dani’s perspective as she sits alone, crying in her apartment. Once the call ends, the scene shifts to the bar, where Mark and Josh are telling Christian it’s time to finally break things off with Dani. They say she is too “clingy”, and has far too much emotional baggage. Christian defends Dani, but only slightly, as if he feels his friends may be right.
Then, the scene shifts back to Dani’s apartment, where we listen in on a call between her and a friend. Dani herself parrots what Christian’s pals were just saying, telling her friend she may be expecting too much from Christian, and might be pushing him away.
It is then that Dani’s call is interrupted with the terrible news: her suicidal sister Terri, by way of tubes connected to the exhaust of a car, flooded the family home with toxic carbon monoxide. The authorities found Terri and their parents, all dead in their beds.
Dani calls Christian, wailing and sobbing. We next see Christian walking, ever-so-slowly, through the snow-covered streets to Dani’s apartment. Her distressed screams are heard outside, and Christian hesitates, in no particular hurry to comfort her.
The actors play it wonderfully, especially Pugh, and in this explosive pre-title sequence, the characters and their relationships are firmly established. Dani is a wounded soul, now more than ever, and Christian (who grows increasingly more selfish as the film progresses) is not prepared to deal with either Dani’s grief or her emotional needs
Months later, at a party, Mark lets it slip that he and Christian will be accompanying Josh and Pelle to Sweden in a few weeks (Josh, whose thesis is on primitive European religious customs, is the reason everyone is going with Pelle to the Hegra). Later, when alone, Dani confronts Christian, asking why he never told her about the trip. Feeling cornered, Christian lies and says he was going to surprise Dani and invite her to come along as well (he wasn’t). Dani agrees to go, and only Pelle is pleased that she will be joining the group.
Once the setting shifts to Sweden, during the time of the midnight sun, Aster continues to explore Dani’s grief and Christian’s selfishness by way of the customs and traditions of this seemingly peaceful Swedish commune, where everyone is looked upon as a member of an extended family.
Of course, not all traditions are peaceful; the visitors witness the violent Attestupa ceremony, an extremely bloody ritual involving a pair of the commune’s elders. This shakes Dani as well as two other outsiders, British students Connie (Ellora Torchia) and Simon (Archie Madekwe), who are so horrified that they demand to be taken to the airport.
The Attestupa forces Dani to once again confront her own heartbreak, and it is too much for her. Yet when she too asks to leave, Christian refuses. Having been unsure up to that point of a topic for his college thesis, Christian decides to copy Josh’s project and study the Hegra commune. Josh is, of course, none too pleased, and accuses Christian of “academic laziness” by duplicating his efforts, while Dani once again must deal with the fact that Christian has no regard for her emotional needs.
It is a gripping study of a relationship that has gone south, even if neither Christian nor Dani are ready to admit it yet; and how Dani, with the help of Pelle and the others in the Hegra, comes to terms with her current situation while also recognizing the potential for a brighter future.
That’s not to say Midsommar is all about Dani and Christian. It is, without question, a horror film. There are moments when the festival is in full-swing that will chill you to the bone, and the climactic scene proves every bit as shocking as that of 1973’s The Wicker Man.
Aster does a masterful job combining all elements into a satisfying whole, bringing us along slowly, which makes the shocks and surprises all the more unsettling. And like Hereditary, Midsommar benefits from multiple viewings (especially the nearly 3-hour director’s cut, which provides more insight into the characters and their motivations).
A study of grief; a glimpse inside an ancient culture and its traditions; and, ultimately, a horror film that will rock you to your core, Midsommar is destined to become a genre classic.
In fact, I’d say it already is one.
Rating: 9.5 out of 10
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