"Midsommar" Review: All Hail the May Queen
Written by: Christian Jatar
Relationships are hard. Sometimes you can’t agree on a restaurant, and sometimes your feelings differ after watching an elderly couple throw themselves off a cliff towards their gory demise. Sometimes you can’t pick a movie, and sometimes your better half gets involved in a messed-up sexual ritual where a crowd of women moans with you while an old lady uses her hands to thrust your ass back and forth. Ari Aster’s “Midsommar” is a unique, unbearably disturbing, sometimes nervous-laugh-inducing psychological horror movie that deserves all of your attention... and sleepless nights.
Saying that the movie starts off strong is much more than an understatement. The opening minutes are gripping and intense. After its perfect tone-setter of an introduction, we learn about the unstable couple at the center of the drama. Dani (Florence Pugh) and Christian (Jack Reynor) are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Dani recently lost her entire family in a spine-chilling murder-suicide, and Christian doesn’t know how to adequately deal with her overwhelming pain. It’s immediately established that this relationship, even before said tragedy, was already a mess. She’d heavily rely on him, disregarding any red flags, and he would just string her along, feeling unable to make a choice between staying in the relationship out of some sort of misguided obligation, or leaving and facing the possibility that she might have been the one. A grieving Dani eventually finds out that Christian and his pals are planning a trip to Sweden, a trip she is later invited to out of forced obligation. Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren), a friend and classmate, has invited them to his hometown’s midsummer festival. A guaranteed good time, filled with warmness, empathy, beautiful people, strange traditions and all sorts of psychedelic drugs. Or so they thought.
One of Christian’s buddies decides to travel to this remote Swedish town out of genuine interest in researching a new, different culture (they’re all anthropology majors after all), and another just goes along in an effort to possibly, maybe find a beautiful, blonde sexual partner. Jack (William Jackson Harper) is the one who’s eager to learn, and Mark (Will Poulter) is the one who just wants to satiate his annoying libido. Christian falls somewhere in between the two extremes. He has yet to decide on a subject for his senior thesis so, who knows, the trip might help with that decision. But at the same time, he seems more than willing to sabotage his relationship with a one-night stand. Dani decides to go along because she doesn’t want to be alone, and Christian reluctantly brings her along because he’s well aware that leaving her behind would make him look like the biggest asshole on earth.
They arrive at this idyllic location, and for a moment, it seems like everything is going to be just fine. The impossibly green grass and stunning blue sky immediately lull the characters (and the audience) into a false sense of security. It’s not often we get horror movies that take place in the bright, sunny day rather than the stereotypical dark, shadowy night. This is the film’s greatest accomplishment: Creating unforgettable, unsettling imagery in the most comfortable settings.
The movie takes its time to carefully construct the mythology of the place. Its world-building and the way it slowly drags you into it is, quite honestly, the scariest thing about it. For a moment, you really want to visit the rural town. You want to inhabit the characters. And it is in this complete sense of immersion that it firmly burrows its way into your every thought. When the horror of it all ultimately shows its true face, it feels like a gut-punch in all the best ways.
As the movie serves one nauseating set-piece after another, we get to fully witness the downfall of Dani and Christian’s toxic relationship. The true, honest-to-god feelings they have for one another slowly bubble up, and, as it turns out, none of them are good. While the townsfolk begin to seem more and more like a cult, Dani and Christian’s relationship begins to seem more and more like a lie. A lie propped up by a genuine inability to communicate; To be honest; To be fair and cautious of each other’s feelings. The cult (AKA, townsfolk), on the other hand, are much more understanding and empathetic towards everyone’s feelings, especially Dani’s.
This becomes increasingly apparent in one specific scene towards the end. It’s important to note that earlier in the film, there’s a moment when Dani shies away from her group, from her boyfriend, to cry alone, isolated from it all. She’s carrying the whole weight of her grief. Approaching the climax, she tries to do the same, but the cult doesn’t let her. They follow her, and as she starts to intensely wail away, they mimic the same reaction. They feel what she feels; They share the pain. This scene is key to what makes “Midsommar” really tick: It’s a film about searching for empathy in the wrong people. Dani is looking for something that Christian simply can’t provide, and this pointless pursuit is what keeps their problematic relationship going.
The film hits an insane fever-pitch with its blood-curdling finale. A shocking juxtaposition of its fairy-tale-like aesthetic and some truly horrifying visuals with music that seemingly crescendoes ad infinitum perfectly brings to life Dani’s complete reformation as a character. She finally comes to terms with the fact that she deserves better. Sure, this comes with the caveat that she basically joined a cult that might have murdered a person or two, but at least they’re willing to share the pain. A pain which Christian would just pathetically avoid in an effort to never fully internalize the responsibility inherent to any loving relationship: To be fully empathetic with those you say you love.
Ari Aster burst onto the scene with “Hereditary,” a complex, deeply layered family drama with a tinge of classic horror. Now, with “Midsommar,” Aster has proven himself a true master of the genre. He has brought before us an absolute masterpiece that deserves all the praise it got and will get in the foreseeable future. This is destined to be a horror classic, not only for its disturbing nature but for its earnest, nuanced take on a complex toxic relationship. So, the next time you’re thinking of going to a festival in the middle of nowhere sponsored by a culture unknown to any anthropology major, maybe, think twice? Put the little flower crown back in its box? Cool.
5/5