This film caught my attention when it proved one of the most polarising films of the year, with both critics and audiences. It further interested me when it came to my attention that it was directed by Ari Aster who directed Hereditary, a critically acclaimed horror film, and, unlike that film, Midsommar received an 18 from the BBFC, much to my frustration given that I couldn’t see it at the cinema as a result. When I saw the jumbled critical reception to the film, I wasted no time (he lied) and watched it.
Here’s my initial response: what the fuck did I just watch. What fucked up mind did this come from. And I think I mean that as a compliment? I’m not really sure to be honest. But, in any case, Midsommar is the kind of film that people are going to be talking about for a while, horror fans or otherwise. Here’s why.
The best place to start is how the film is distinctive in comparison to Hereditary, and that’s fairly simple to explain. All supernatural horror elements have been removed. As such, this is a much rawer, more brutal affair from start to finish that has no issue plunging you headfirst into the deep end. At the start of the film the only thing you know about the character is that she has a suicidal sister. Next thing you know, she’s dead, her parents are dead, and she’s left on her own with her reluctant boyfriend. Just like that. And that’s the lowest point of the film.
The pair are then invited to Sweden to join the boyfriend’s friend at a festival, and everything goes off the rails from there. Nothing supernatural, just the natural and organic drama and horror that comes entirely out of human action. And that idea of choice is essential to the narrative. Not just the fact that they decided to come, but the decision that Dani made at the end of the film to sacrifice Christian after he appeared to cheat on her, something that appeared to be out of his control.
And while the idea of choice and what is in and out of our control is essential to the narrative, other themes can be interpreted differently. My initial interpretation was that the film was about the natural order. I say this because of the many incidents throughout the film where Dani appears to become part of nature itself (when the grass starts growing from her hands etc.). After all, the cult exists as part of an isolated culture, and, by projecting their own culture onto the cult, as they do when they arrive by questioning the arranged suicides, they are messing with that natural order. In fact, Dani is probably the only one who was mostly content with the whole thing (at the very least at the end), and she is the one who ultimately survives.
And that might be the most frightening thing about the whole affair. As I said, the film starts with its lowest point, and, in a twisted way, ends with its highest point. If you’re willing to broaden the themes of the film to a ridiculous extent, you could say that this is a film about new beginnings, burning the worst parts of your past to start a fresh, even if that means making the ultimate sacrifice. This becomes especially true when you consider how much suicide is relevant to both the text and subtext of the film. Also, Dani had so much shit happen to her on the run up to that point that you could make the argument that whatever happened in the film would be an improvement for her, even as her friends burn before her very eyes.
And, for however harrowing that image is, the more frightening thing is that, from Dani’s perspective (and by extension the audience’s perspective given Dani is the character that you see this film through the eyes of), it’s a happy ending. As I’ve mentioned before, Dani is more at peace at the end of the film that at any other place during it. In that sense, you could interpret this as a story of redemption as Dani comes back from the lowest of lows to find her peace in the most unlikely place.
But however much I will continue to praise the narrative of this film, it’s how we get to that point that is most impressive about Midsommar. If this film does not win all the award for technical excellence, then something is wrong with the world. I don’t know what I like more, the gloriously understated editing that grants the film a seamlessness without comparison, how the long takes linger just a fraction more than you might feel comfortable (especially the shots that feature gorier mise-en-scène), how it cuts away from the action when you’re not always expecting it to, always looking for any opportunity to catch you off guard and knock its audience off balance, how the use of sound is just exceptional, with the more dissonant touches to the score that cut off in unconventional places and then proceed to spiral out of control, how the gore is both terrifyingly, yet satisfyingly presented, emphasising the twisted terror of the situation the group has found themselves in, however you slice it, this film just works.
Granted, I’d be more than content if I never watch this film again in my life. As I mentioned at the start, I’m not entirely sure how to feel about this film, or whether it should even be considered a film at all and not just a product of a disturbed mind. I almost gave the film no score based on this alone. But I have to bear in mind the technical genius of a film like this. This is indeed a film that fans will be talking about for years and decades to come, maybe longer, and certainly is not a film I enjoyed, but if the film does stick around in the public consciousness as I predict it will, in the long run I think we’ll all be better for it.
9 / 10
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