¡QUÉ HORROR! 2019
Candidate #24
MIDSOMMAR
(June 2019)
i cant anymore - everything's black - mom and dad are coming too. goodbye.
That’s an email that Dani Ardor (Malevolent’s Florence Pugh) receives from
her bipolar sister Terri, which we get a peek at early on in Ari Aster’s
sophomore offering, Midsommar.
Like the obituary that opens Aster’s feature debut (and ¡Qué horror! 2018 title) Hereditary, it’s an ominous harbinger of
the torrent of grief that rages throughout the film’s runtime, as well as all
the dreadful things to come, as Dani finds herself in an isolated community in Sweden
where things are, quite naturally for a horror movie, not as idyllic as they
seem.
I’ve always liked the folk horror subgenre, where
the outsider is plunged into a close-knit community, stumbling about, ignorant
of the nuances and niceties (sometimes, even the language) of this alien
society, exposed to customs and traditions that, to a stranger, can be bizarre,
perhaps even grotesque and repulsive.
It’s like the extreme horror movie form of FOMO,
the simmering anxiety of being the only one who isn’t in on it, and in folk horror of course, not
knowing what it is--until it’s far
too late--can very well be the death of you…
When Midsommar
takes its first decisive folk horror turn, it’s a powerful and potent sequence,
and once that takes place, it is, as they say, all downhill from there, at
least for Dani and company…
More questionable incidents then take place, but each
character’s personal issues and preoccupations cloud their awareness of the
fact that things are very wrong in “…
The tranquil and majestic Hårga.”
All things considered, Midsommar navigates the folk horror seas exceptionally well, because there is, after all, a giant lying in the
folk horror depths.
Said giant is, of course, Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man, one of those
particularly singular titles that forever casts its long and intimidating
shadow over all the other films of its type that follow. Like The Exorcist and possession movies, or Jaws and shark movies, any folk horror
title made after 1973 needs to walk in The
Wicker Man’s shade.*
But thanks to Aster’s firm directorial and
narrative grasp (as well as DP Pawel Pogorzelski’s eye), there is more than
enough glaring sunlight to drive away The
Wicker Man’s shadow, at least for the spell-like duration of Midsommar’s length, enough time for
Aster to weave an insidious tale that cautions that the insularity and
isolation of any community has the potential to breed horrors.
I suspect that there will be a portion of the
audience that will feel Midsommar is
not quite as “scary” as Aster’s first horror effort, Hereditary.
But, while that may or may not be true, what I can say is, Midsommar is one effed-up
title--and I mean that in the nicest possible horror movie way.
It’s a film that showcases the horrifying beauty of
community, where one is never left alone, and where all emotions--joy, ecstasy, grief, or horror--are felt in unity.
Much like a theatre full of people, witnessing Midsommar’s sundrenched terrors in the
climate-controlled dark.
* So complete and intimidating is that shadow that
not even Hardy’s own “spiritual sequel,” The
Wicker Tree, could hope to hold its own…
Parting Shot 1:
Frankie Valli’s “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine
(Anymore)” plays over the end credits roll…
Man, Aster really
knows how to pick a closing song…
Parting Shot 2:
There is what may (or may not) be a swipe at Neil
LaBute’s ill-fated 2006 remake of The
Wicker Man towards Midsommar’s
end…
I leave it up to the viewer to decide…
Parting Shot 3:
I’m looking forward to the opportunity to check out
the longer-by-23 minutes Director’s Cut…
Yay! More folk horror goodness!
“Yeah, it’s sort of a crazy nine-day festival my family’s doing. Lots of
pageantry…”
“Uh-huh.”
“… special ceremonies, and dressing up.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It’ll probably seem very silly. But, it’s like theatre.”
(Midsommar
OS’ courtesy of impawards.com.)
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