The sad, young woman pictured above, who appears to have left her Claritin D back in America, is Dani (played by Florence Pugh), and she travels to travels to Sweden with her boyfriend and his three friends in Ari Aster’s Midsommar.
Midsommar is a strange combination of beautiful cinematography, witty dialogue, gory violence, maypole dancing, ghastly beverages, white uniforms, full-frontal nudity, psychedelic mushrooms, and anthropology majors.
It’s not a great film, but it’s entertaining and not lacking a sense of humor. Most of the fun comes from Mark (played by Will Poulter). His goofy comments often lighten the mood of the picture.
He helps his friends temporarily forget they’re surrounded by craft tables populated by cultists and dances performed by screaming women.
Frozen Trees and Loss
The film opens with a stagnant shot of a massive tapestry depicting skulls, the Sun, angels, and people. It looks child-like at first glance, but it appears dark and evil under closer inspection.
The tapestry opens, and you see a frozen, foggy landscape of barren trees and frosty lakes. A woman slowly chanting in the soundtrack accompanies the winter landscape. The scene is cold and serene until a jarring telephone ring changes the mood and focuses on Dani.
Dani can’t get in touch with her disturbed sister, and she fears the worst. Well, the worst happens.
Her sister is found with a long tube connected from her mouth to the exhaust pipe of a running car in her parents’ garage.
Another tube connected to the other running car in the garage leads to the parents’ bedroom. All three are killed from carbon monoxide poisoning.
Like the superior Hereditary, Aster’s main character faces an enormous tragedy and barely has time to grieve before being thrown into a nightmare.
Before the characters reach an isolated village in Sweden, the camera takes the perspective of the van they’re traveling in and rotates until it’s upside-down.
The inverted camera angle continues while the scene depicts an attractive, green forest that surrounds the winding road. The shot is well-done, but I’m not sure if it’s trying to infer that the characters’ worlds are about to turn upside-down. Maybe, the director is only attempting to be experimental or stylish.
Lars, Please Pass the Grey Poupon
The village, nestled in an impressive mountain range with rolling green hills and small wooden buildings and houses, is an idyllic location. It’s perfect for fair-haired weirdos who get their kicks from spinning around a maypole.
When the group enters the commune, they’re greeted by white-frocked, grinning blondes and youngsters playing flutes. Dani smiles and feels uplifted by the colorful scene unfolding in front of her.
It looks like a mountain paradise, but it’s the type of heaven you would see in an old Star Trek episode. The land is pretty and populated by dancing, grinning, Swedish hippies, but it has a disturbing side.
The village holds a festival every ninety years that involves feasting, dancing, bloody rituals, propagation, homemade beverages that bear a likeness to pond water, and lots of flowers. Dani and a group of anthropology students, led by the Swedish native Pelle (played by Vilhelm Blomgren), arrive on the opening day of the festival.
Smile on Your Brother
The villagers seem friendly and full of life. They’re gracious to the new guests, and they treat them like they are part of the family. Everything appears normal in the small commune until two of the guests, appalled by the violent outcome of an honored ritual, demand to leave the settlement immediately.
Midsommar’s pacing is slow and deliberate in the beginning, but it picks up speed after the first ritual. The horror and intensity ramp up in the second half of the film, and it’s not easy to watch.
The movie becomes a living nightmare, and you need a sound and patient mind to make it to the end. A healthy stomach may also be helpful because the gore is gut-wrenching. Saying the movie is graphic would be putting it lightly. It’s foul.
The secret of the festival’s purpose isn’t challenging to figure out. The director tries to keep the film’s intent hidden until the end, but several clues alert the viewer to the awaiting horror. The story isn’t predictable, but it desperately tries to be clever.
Except for Dani and Pelle, I didn’t relate to or sympathize with the students. Mark, Christian, and Josh are so unlikable that you don’t care what happens to them.
The film has excellent acting, but Pugh’s portrayal of Dani stands out. Her character is tormented with loss and guilt before she even enters the freak fest.
Pugh displays a range of emotions, and the physical and psychological turmoil in the film could not have been easy on the young actor. I felt exhausted watching some of her scenes. If she had to go through multiple takes, I feel sorry for her.
I respect the director for making another intelligent horror film. Ari Aster and Jordan Peele are changing the genre by moving away from slasher films and haunted houses. Midsommar is not as good as Aster’s Hereditary, but it is unique. Its images stick in your head, and that’s not always a pleasant feeling.
Honestly, the drinks they serve to the guests scared me more than the gory violence. One concoction is made by adding a dirty root to an orange liquid. The drinks are always yellow or orange, and I doubt that there are too many orange groves in a Swedish mountain range.
Sounds intriguing. I may have to watch it even with the gore—well maybe!