Midsommar: Horror in the Light of Day
Directed and written by Ari Aster.
The film begins with a cynical portrait of the modern world, and the painful effects of mental illness. Tragic events in Dani’s (Florence Pugh) life quickly begin to drive a wedge between her and her selfish boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor). The death of her parents at the hands of her sister, who also committed suicide in the process, is shown unapologetically. The camera lingers on the faces of her dead parents, and the tube taped to her sister’s mouth. As we all know too well, Ari Aster likes to use death and tragedy as catalysts for his characters. Hereditary (2018) showed us just how dark and retching he was willing to go when it comes to character grief. Midsommar (2019) is not different in this respect.
The whole opening of the film is framed within a brutal winter background. We look out the windows and see sheets of snow and an ugly, noisy, city. The idea of seasonal depression comes to mind when you’re looking at the dreary snow. It strikes me as very Antonioni-esqu for a horror film. It situates the psyche of the film and its characters perfectly. A change of environment, something fresh, is needed to breath some kind of life into Dani. It’s through this ultimate change of environment that Dani will eventually find a (violent) solution to her grief.
The camera work in the film is even more interesting than that of Hereditary. Towards the beginning of the film there are two truly lovely shots that I absolutely must discuss. The mirror shot after Dani and Christian get back from the party is a standout in the film. Aster smartly keeps the camera on the mirror, which shows Christian, while also keeping Dani in the frame next to it. The scene goes on for a good length of time. Clearly, a representation of the separation and fracture of their relationship. Aster is subtle enough with the scene, it doesn't necessarily hit you over the head with symbolism. The framing in the scene gives you room to breathe. The other shot is similar and takes place soon after the mirror shot. It involves a television screen in a friend’s apartment. We see Dani’s reflection in the television, while Christian and his friends are seated in front of us. Rather confrontationally. Dani feels very out of place in this scene, clearly the ‘other’. This scene also goes on for a bit as well, Aster is giving these kinds of scenes breathing room, time for us to absorb them.
The sound design (Colin Alexander, Michael Brake, Ruy Garcia) is also definitely worth talking about. The music in the film is by Haxan Cloak (Stranger Things). It’s extremely immersive and utterly strange. It envelops you. Like all good sound design, it often slips in unnoticed and slowly builds according to its needs in the scene. The scene when they all get to Sweden and take hallucinogenic mushrooms stands out to me in particular. It sounds at times as if you can hear grass growing so loudly, the scene is full of what I can only describe as deeply psychological sounds.
The cinematography by Pawel Pogorzelski (Hereditary) is beautiful. It has to be the most visually pleasing horror film I have ever seen. Even the darker shots in the beginning of the film are enticing to look at. Light clearly plays an important part in Midsommar, and Pogorzelski never ceases to take advantage of it. The long days of sunlight light in Sweden is used to the film’s advantage, it also serves to further set the characters out of their element. These long days become very disorienting to Dani. Losing track of time plays a big part in the slow descent farther from reality and deeper into the isolationism of the cult.
Violence is exposed by this light. In horror film horrific images are often shrouded in partial darkness, saving the audience from seeing all the ugliness. We're left to imagine much of the horror, which often creates a more intense effect in audience’s minds. But here it is laid bare, brightly lit, and raw for our eyes. Aster lets the most graphic shots linger on screen just long enough, he often cuts back to them quickly, and unexpectedly too. We try so hard to forget the sight of a bashed in face and skull. Aster does not let you off easily. He makes sure you don't forget it for the rest of the film’s runtime. You almost wish darkness was present in these scenes, to save you from seeing it. This brings up an interesting moral question in terms of how we digest this kind of violence. Just because we don’t see gore or violence in its entirety, doesn't mean it’s not there, that it’s not happening. Aster simply denies us this comfort we take in only seeing horror’s partial imagery.
The horror in the film is built up to slowly. Which I enjoy, I find it creeping and effective. However the ritual scenes were all a bit too long for my liking. I feel like we could have had more time with individual characters, showing the effects of this place on them, instead of showing the pomp and circumstance. It’s obviously important for the development of the personality of the cult, but it becomes excessive. We get some information from the visual tableaus, the tapestries, carvings, and designs throughout the film. Most notably in the room pictured below. So with that in mind, I definitely think a better balance could make been achieved.
I found it very smart that Aster uses the character’s need to do research for a thesis as a reason to share information about the cult. It’s a great way to incorporate information to help build this strange world, while not feeling spoon-fed.
The horror experienced by Dani is both very visceral and psychological. She is entirely isolated once she gets to Sweden. Her boyfriend and his friends are not much comfort to her at all, and she is in a completely (literally) foreign environment. It’s suffocating to watch. In the scene pictured above, the women in the cult won’t even allow Dani to experience her own pain, they must share in it. By screaming and participating in it with her, they are stealing away her grief. This act in itself is selfish, and only causes Dani more pain. It’s clear that they are trying to either convert everyone or consume them mentally. Eventually Dani breaks and she allows herself a kind of revenge, and perhaps a twisted sort of peace.
The film has a wonderful Final Girl revenge ending. Broken and betrayed by her boyfriend, Dani is forced by the cult to choose between saving Christian’s life or another cult member. She chooses death for Christian, he is sewed into a bear carcass and ultimately set on fire with other sacrificial bodies. Only after watching the whole scene go up in flames do we finally see Dani genuinely smile. We understand that it was not just the cult and the tragic death of her family that caused Dani’s misery. So much of it had to do with Christian and how he treated her. His death was liberating for her. Out of the group that traveled to Sweden with Dani, she is the only one left alive. We have our Final Girl, liberated, and clearly satisfied with her choice.
