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Kayleigh (12 KP) rated Beautiful Creatures (Caster Chronicles, #1) in Books
Jan 2, 2019
I was made aware of this book when, at the cinema to see Les Miserables, I saw the trailer for the film adaptation. Apart from loving the song, which immediately went on my iPod when I got home (Seven Devils – Florence + the Machine), what I saw caught my attention enough to jot down the name and read the book.
Beautiful Creatures is set in the fictional town of Gatlin, South Carolina. Ethan Wate, from whose perspective the book is written, describes his town’s residents as either “stupid or stuck”, and can’t wait to leave, bored with the banality of his life. Fairly soon into the book, the reader is pulled into his dream, where we meet a girl smelling of lemons and rosemary, in need of help. A girl who, although he hasn’t yet met her, Ethan can’t live without.
The girl is Lena Duchannes (“Duchannes rhymes with rain”), with black hair, green eyes, and mysterious powers that see her surrounded by the pathetic fallacy. It’s often raining when Lena’s upset, and at one point there’s even a tornado. Lena’s a Caster, a broader term for a witch that, within her family, also includes a palimpsest, a siren and an incubus. The main premise of the story is that Lena’s family is cursed, and on the night of their sixteenth birthday each member of that family becomes ‘claimed’ as either a dark or light Caster. Lena keeps a count on her hand of how many days she has left until this night, but until she gets to that point, she’s tormented by a Carrie-esque group of Gatlin-born-and-raised girls, alongside much of the rest of the town.
I read quite a good blog post on this a few days ago, although, sorry, I can’t find it again for love nor money now! They pointed out that Ethan had a fair few feminine qualities (being very observant of Lena’s clothes, for example), but that if the story had been written from Lena’s perspective, it would have been 900 pages of teenage angst. I agree with that! It’s easy to see why she would be feeling so fraught though – it is made clear that she has no control over which way she will turn. If she is claimed as a Dark Caster, the book says, her personality will completely change, and she’ll no longer be able to see the family she has grown up with (apart from Ridley, I guess).
I did enjoy the story – it was fast paced, there was always enough going on to hold my attention, and there was a great twist at the end that I didn’t see coming. I really liked the fact that Lena craved normality, even though it was, ironically, the thing that Ethan hates about his town. As a teenager with medical/weight/my share of social issues, I could really relate to the idea that, despite whatever else she had going on, she just wanted to be able to do what everyone else does, no matter how boring or basic it may seem. That really resonated with me.
I was also really fascinated with the character of Ridley. She came strutting onto the scene and automatically made my jaw drop, as I think she was supposed to. Even when we’re told she’s a Dark Caster, her struggle with good and bad always seems to be lurking somewhere. <spoiler>I thought it really added grit to the book that she and Lena were best friends all through their childhood – you can really tell that Ridley still wants what’s best for Lena, even if that later translates to her trying to help Sarafine turn Lena towards the dark side. Then, later on, it’s obvious she has feelings for Link, and even the darkness within her can’t squash that. It’s an intriguing conflict!</spoiler>
However, I think this book will only ever be a guilty pleasure, and that’s because of the love thing. Now, I must admit, it’s not as bad as the Twilight film (which sickened me, and put me off reading the books), where Bella and Edward meet and she’s almost straight away “in love” with him. However, it’s still obvious almost from the beginning that by the end of the book, Lena and Ethan will have said those 3 overused, under-meant words – “I love you”. She’s 15, and he’s 16, by the way. <spoiler>The book manages to make it seem like their destiny by making their ancestors romantically linked, but I’m still not sure.</spoiler> I admit this may be because I’m slightly biased; I’ve never been in love, and didn’t actually have a boyfriend as a teenager. Maybe it is really easy to fall in love, I don’t know. To me though, being realistic is important – even in a fantasy book. As a reader, I need to be able to relate to the characters in some way, and it seemed like a cliche to make their feelings so intense, despite the events in the book.
Then, there’s the ending. While I really enjoyed the twist at the end, it was over too quickly. <spoiler>There was so much build up to meeting Sarafine, only for her to die (it seemed like) 10 minutes after she was first introduced. Plus, what happened to Ridley? Technically, Lena didn’t choose a side, so I do want to read further on in the series to see what happened to her – I’ll be really disappointed if she’s just forgotten about. As well as this, I want to know more about the name changes – why are they necessary, and do the new names fit them better somehow?</spoiler>
Well, if you’ve made it through my rambling, I’m impressed! I know I haven’t mentioned several important characters (Amma, for one), but I’ve covered most of the things I remember thinking about the book. Overall, I did like it and I reckon I'll see the film when it comes out on DVD, as well as reading more of the series, but I did see some parallels with Twilight, which isn't necessarily a good thing!
This review is also on my <a href="http://awowords.wordpress.com">blog</a>; - if you liked it, please check it out!
Beautiful Creatures is set in the fictional town of Gatlin, South Carolina. Ethan Wate, from whose perspective the book is written, describes his town’s residents as either “stupid or stuck”, and can’t wait to leave, bored with the banality of his life. Fairly soon into the book, the reader is pulled into his dream, where we meet a girl smelling of lemons and rosemary, in need of help. A girl who, although he hasn’t yet met her, Ethan can’t live without.
The girl is Lena Duchannes (“Duchannes rhymes with rain”), with black hair, green eyes, and mysterious powers that see her surrounded by the pathetic fallacy. It’s often raining when Lena’s upset, and at one point there’s even a tornado. Lena’s a Caster, a broader term for a witch that, within her family, also includes a palimpsest, a siren and an incubus. The main premise of the story is that Lena’s family is cursed, and on the night of their sixteenth birthday each member of that family becomes ‘claimed’ as either a dark or light Caster. Lena keeps a count on her hand of how many days she has left until this night, but until she gets to that point, she’s tormented by a Carrie-esque group of Gatlin-born-and-raised girls, alongside much of the rest of the town.
I read quite a good blog post on this a few days ago, although, sorry, I can’t find it again for love nor money now! They pointed out that Ethan had a fair few feminine qualities (being very observant of Lena’s clothes, for example), but that if the story had been written from Lena’s perspective, it would have been 900 pages of teenage angst. I agree with that! It’s easy to see why she would be feeling so fraught though – it is made clear that she has no control over which way she will turn. If she is claimed as a Dark Caster, the book says, her personality will completely change, and she’ll no longer be able to see the family she has grown up with (apart from Ridley, I guess).
I did enjoy the story – it was fast paced, there was always enough going on to hold my attention, and there was a great twist at the end that I didn’t see coming. I really liked the fact that Lena craved normality, even though it was, ironically, the thing that Ethan hates about his town. As a teenager with medical/weight/my share of social issues, I could really relate to the idea that, despite whatever else she had going on, she just wanted to be able to do what everyone else does, no matter how boring or basic it may seem. That really resonated with me.
I was also really fascinated with the character of Ridley. She came strutting onto the scene and automatically made my jaw drop, as I think she was supposed to. Even when we’re told she’s a Dark Caster, her struggle with good and bad always seems to be lurking somewhere. <spoiler>I thought it really added grit to the book that she and Lena were best friends all through their childhood – you can really tell that Ridley still wants what’s best for Lena, even if that later translates to her trying to help Sarafine turn Lena towards the dark side. Then, later on, it’s obvious she has feelings for Link, and even the darkness within her can’t squash that. It’s an intriguing conflict!</spoiler>
However, I think this book will only ever be a guilty pleasure, and that’s because of the love thing. Now, I must admit, it’s not as bad as the Twilight film (which sickened me, and put me off reading the books), where Bella and Edward meet and she’s almost straight away “in love” with him. However, it’s still obvious almost from the beginning that by the end of the book, Lena and Ethan will have said those 3 overused, under-meant words – “I love you”. She’s 15, and he’s 16, by the way. <spoiler>The book manages to make it seem like their destiny by making their ancestors romantically linked, but I’m still not sure.</spoiler> I admit this may be because I’m slightly biased; I’ve never been in love, and didn’t actually have a boyfriend as a teenager. Maybe it is really easy to fall in love, I don’t know. To me though, being realistic is important – even in a fantasy book. As a reader, I need to be able to relate to the characters in some way, and it seemed like a cliche to make their feelings so intense, despite the events in the book.
Then, there’s the ending. While I really enjoyed the twist at the end, it was over too quickly. <spoiler>There was so much build up to meeting Sarafine, only for her to die (it seemed like) 10 minutes after she was first introduced. Plus, what happened to Ridley? Technically, Lena didn’t choose a side, so I do want to read further on in the series to see what happened to her – I’ll be really disappointed if she’s just forgotten about. As well as this, I want to know more about the name changes – why are they necessary, and do the new names fit them better somehow?</spoiler>
Well, if you’ve made it through my rambling, I’m impressed! I know I haven’t mentioned several important characters (Amma, for one), but I’ve covered most of the things I remember thinking about the book. Overall, I did like it and I reckon I'll see the film when it comes out on DVD, as well as reading more of the series, but I did see some parallels with Twilight, which isn't necessarily a good thing!
This review is also on my <a href="http://awowords.wordpress.com">blog</a>; - if you liked it, please check it out!
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated The Post (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
Landing the Hindenburg in a Thunderstorm.
What a combination: Streep, Hanks, Spielberg, Kaminski behind the camera, Williams behind the notes. What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing as it turns out. After, for me, the disappointment of “The BFG” here is Spielberg on firm ground and at the height of his game.
It’s 1971 and the New York Times is in trouble for publishing what became known as “The Pentagon Papers”: a damning account of multiple administration’s dodgy dealings around the Vietnam War, put together by Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood, “Star Trek: Into Darkness“) and meant for “posterity” – not for publication! Watching from the sidelines with frustration at their competitor’s scoop are the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks, “Bridge of Spies“, “Inferno“) and the new owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins“, “Suffragette“). With immaculate timing, Graham is taking the paper public, so needs the newspaper embroiled in any sort of scandal like a hole in the head. But with the US First Amendment under pressure, will Graham and Bradlee put their business and their freedom at risk by publishing and being damned?
Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and Graham (Meryl Streep) in the Washington Post’s newsroom.
Both of the leads play characters that are quite strikingly out of character from their normal roles.
In a seamingly endless run of ‘kick-ass’ women in the movie driving seat, here I expected Streep to be in full “Iron Lady” mode, but in fact she starts the film as quite the opposite: nervous, timid, vascillating. For although the story is about “The Washington Post” and “The Pentagon Papers”, the real story is about Graham herself (Liz Hannah’s script is actually based on Graham’s autobiography). In many ways it’s about a woman, in a male world, overcoming her fear and finding her own voice. As has been demonstrated in many recent films (“Hidden Figures” for example) the working world for woman has changed so markedly since the 60’s and 70’s that it’s almost impossible to relate to these chavenistic attitudes. Graham is repeatedly downtrodden as “not good enough” by her underlings within earshot, and then thanks them “for their frankness”. When the women folk retire at dinner, to let the men-folk talk politics, Graham meekly goes with them. Even her father, for God’s sake, left the newspaper not to her but to her (now late) husband! It’s no surprise then that she is coming from a pretty low base of self-confidence, and her journey in the film – as expertly played by Streep – is an extraordinarily rousing one.
The real deal: Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham.
Hanks, normally the guy you’d most like to invite round for dinner (@tomhanks if you happen to be reading this sir, that’s a genuine invitation… we make a mean lasagne here!) also plays somewhat outside of his normal character here. As Bradlee, he is snappy, brusque and businesslike. Although I don’t think he could ever quite match the irascibility of the character’s portrayal by Jason Robards in the classic “All the President’s Men” – who could? – its a character with real screen presence.
The similarities with Alan J Pakula’s 1976 classic Watergate movie – one of my personal favourites – don’t stop there. The same sets that were once populated by Redford and Hoffman are gloriously reproduced with Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski delivering great tracking shots through the newsroom. (Watch out for Sacha Spielberg – daughter of Stephen and Kate Capshaw – who also turns up there delivering a package).
The scoop revealed: Odenkirk, Hanks and David Cross get the low-down.
The supporting cast includes Sarah Paulson (so memorable in “The Trial of O.J. Simpson”) as Bradlee’s wife Tony, Bradley Whitford (“The West Wing”, “Get Out“) and Tracy Letts (“The Big Short“) as two of Graham’s board advisors and Jesse Plemons (“The Program“, “Bridge of Spies“) as the lead legal advisor. Particularly impressive though is Bob Odenkirk (“Breaking Bad”) as Ben Bagdikian, Bradlee’s lead investigative reporter on the case: all stress, loose change and paranoia in his dealings with the leaky Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys).
Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) ordering a drink for himself and his travelling companion.
In a memorable piece of casting Richard Nixon is played by…. Richard Nixon. Although a silluohetted Curzon Dobell stalks the Oval office, the ex-president’s original phone recordings are played on the soundtrack. (There, I knew those recordings would be useful for something… thank heavens he kept them all!)
The film also demonstrates in fascinating style the newsprint business of yesteryear. When I click a button on my PC and a beautifully laser-printed page streams out of my Epson printer, it still seems like witchcraft to me! But it is extraordinary to think that newspapers in those days were put together by typesetters manually building up the pages from embossed metal letters laboriously slotted into a frame. Brilliantly evocative.
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) takes a risk.
If Spielberg has a fault, it is one of sentimentality – something that is pointed out in Susan Lacy’s superb HBO documentary on Spielberg (something I have yet to write a review on, but if you like Spielberg you should definitely seek out). Here he falls into that trap again, with an unnecessary bedroom scene between Graham and her daughter tipping the screenplay into mawkishness. It’s unnecessary since we don’t need the points raised rammed down our throats again. It’s something repeated in a rather bizarre final scene with Graham walking down the steps of the supreme court with admiring woman – only woman – watching her. These irritations tarnish for me what could have been a top-rated film.
But the movie is an impressive watch and older viewers, and anyone interested in American political history will, I think, love it. The film, especially with its nice epilogue, did make me immediately want to come home and put “All the President’s Men” on again… which is never a bad thing. Highly recommended.
Nothing as it turns out. After, for me, the disappointment of “The BFG” here is Spielberg on firm ground and at the height of his game.
It’s 1971 and the New York Times is in trouble for publishing what became known as “The Pentagon Papers”: a damning account of multiple administration’s dodgy dealings around the Vietnam War, put together by Robert McNamara (Bruce Greenwood, “Star Trek: Into Darkness“) and meant for “posterity” – not for publication! Watching from the sidelines with frustration at their competitor’s scoop are the Washington Post’s editor Ben Bradlee (Tom Hanks, “Bridge of Spies“, “Inferno“) and the new owner Kay Graham (Meryl Streep, “Florence Foster Jenkins“, “Suffragette“). With immaculate timing, Graham is taking the paper public, so needs the newspaper embroiled in any sort of scandal like a hole in the head. But with the US First Amendment under pressure, will Graham and Bradlee put their business and their freedom at risk by publishing and being damned?
Bradlee (Tom Hanks) and Graham (Meryl Streep) in the Washington Post’s newsroom.
Both of the leads play characters that are quite strikingly out of character from their normal roles.
In a seamingly endless run of ‘kick-ass’ women in the movie driving seat, here I expected Streep to be in full “Iron Lady” mode, but in fact she starts the film as quite the opposite: nervous, timid, vascillating. For although the story is about “The Washington Post” and “The Pentagon Papers”, the real story is about Graham herself (Liz Hannah’s script is actually based on Graham’s autobiography). In many ways it’s about a woman, in a male world, overcoming her fear and finding her own voice. As has been demonstrated in many recent films (“Hidden Figures” for example) the working world for woman has changed so markedly since the 60’s and 70’s that it’s almost impossible to relate to these chavenistic attitudes. Graham is repeatedly downtrodden as “not good enough” by her underlings within earshot, and then thanks them “for their frankness”. When the women folk retire at dinner, to let the men-folk talk politics, Graham meekly goes with them. Even her father, for God’s sake, left the newspaper not to her but to her (now late) husband! It’s no surprise then that she is coming from a pretty low base of self-confidence, and her journey in the film – as expertly played by Streep – is an extraordinarily rousing one.
The real deal: Ben Bradlee and Kay Graham.
Hanks, normally the guy you’d most like to invite round for dinner (@tomhanks if you happen to be reading this sir, that’s a genuine invitation… we make a mean lasagne here!) also plays somewhat outside of his normal character here. As Bradlee, he is snappy, brusque and businesslike. Although I don’t think he could ever quite match the irascibility of the character’s portrayal by Jason Robards in the classic “All the President’s Men” – who could? – its a character with real screen presence.
The similarities with Alan J Pakula’s 1976 classic Watergate movie – one of my personal favourites – don’t stop there. The same sets that were once populated by Redford and Hoffman are gloriously reproduced with Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski delivering great tracking shots through the newsroom. (Watch out for Sacha Spielberg – daughter of Stephen and Kate Capshaw – who also turns up there delivering a package).
The scoop revealed: Odenkirk, Hanks and David Cross get the low-down.
The supporting cast includes Sarah Paulson (so memorable in “The Trial of O.J. Simpson”) as Bradlee’s wife Tony, Bradley Whitford (“The West Wing”, “Get Out“) and Tracy Letts (“The Big Short“) as two of Graham’s board advisors and Jesse Plemons (“The Program“, “Bridge of Spies“) as the lead legal advisor. Particularly impressive though is Bob Odenkirk (“Breaking Bad”) as Ben Bagdikian, Bradlee’s lead investigative reporter on the case: all stress, loose change and paranoia in his dealings with the leaky Daniel Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys).
Bagdikian (Bob Odenkirk) ordering a drink for himself and his travelling companion.
In a memorable piece of casting Richard Nixon is played by…. Richard Nixon. Although a silluohetted Curzon Dobell stalks the Oval office, the ex-president’s original phone recordings are played on the soundtrack. (There, I knew those recordings would be useful for something… thank heavens he kept them all!)
The film also demonstrates in fascinating style the newsprint business of yesteryear. When I click a button on my PC and a beautifully laser-printed page streams out of my Epson printer, it still seems like witchcraft to me! But it is extraordinary to think that newspapers in those days were put together by typesetters manually building up the pages from embossed metal letters laboriously slotted into a frame. Brilliantly evocative.
Ellsberg (Matthew Rhys) takes a risk.
If Spielberg has a fault, it is one of sentimentality – something that is pointed out in Susan Lacy’s superb HBO documentary on Spielberg (something I have yet to write a review on, but if you like Spielberg you should definitely seek out). Here he falls into that trap again, with an unnecessary bedroom scene between Graham and her daughter tipping the screenplay into mawkishness. It’s unnecessary since we don’t need the points raised rammed down our throats again. It’s something repeated in a rather bizarre final scene with Graham walking down the steps of the supreme court with admiring woman – only woman – watching her. These irritations tarnish for me what could have been a top-rated film.
But the movie is an impressive watch and older viewers, and anyone interested in American political history will, I think, love it. The film, especially with its nice epilogue, did make me immediately want to come home and put “All the President’s Men” on again… which is never a bad thing. Highly recommended.
Chris Sawin (602 KP) rated Midsommar (2019) in Movies
Jun 26, 2019 (Updated Jul 4, 2019)
When a director like Ari Aster only has two full-length features under his belt, it’s difficult not to compare his works but the truth of the matter is that Hereditary and Midsommar are two incredibly different films. Hereditary seemed to thrive on lurking in the shadows visually to assist in its dark storytelling. Nearly all of Midsommar takes place under blinding sunlight making the horrific events that unfold feel stranger and even more out of place, confusing, and bizarrely unsettling. Based on his two films though, Aster does seem to flock towards a few common themes. Grief, loss, and the inability to cope have plagued the main characters of his films while the importance of family takes a high precedence. Hereditary was more about a specific family attempting to stay together while already being in shambles and Midsommar attempts to create a new family on more than one occasion with the possibility of constant expansion.
Dani’s (Florence Pugh) life is turned inside out once a devastating tragedy leaves her dumbstruck. She leans on her boyfriend of four years, Christian (Jack Reynor), for support, but their relationship is obviously strained. Along with their friends Josh (William Jackson Harper) and Mark (Will Poulter), Dani and Christian end up going on vacation to rural Sweden. They travel to a small village where their friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) grew up and now serves as their host. A rare nine-day festival that only occurs once every 90 years is being celebrated. Josh is utilizing the trip as a means to bulk up his folklore thesis for college while Mark is more interested in partaking in the Swedish women. Christian is attempting to figure out what his thesis will be while Dani searches for some sort of guidance after such a tragic occurrence. Their trip becomes increasingly more peculiar the longer they stay as they’re forced to witness violent rituals and are encouraged to embrace the ways of a Pagan cult.
The intricate illustrations throughout the film like in the opening shot, the elongated love potion cloth, or the walls of the barn-like structure Dani and her friends sleep in, give Midsommar this dark fairy tale aspect to it that a film like Pan’s Labyrinth would be proud of. The Pagan roots of Pelle’s village and the film’s metaphorical feet being so firmly planted in such rich folklore give Midsommar this cautiously fanciful aesthetic. The film capitalizes on the nostalgic sensation of when fairy tales and children’s books were read to you as a child. There are consistent signs that things aren’t right, paranoia lurks around every corner, and the locals set off every ominous alarm in your body, but there’s that naïve part of us buried deep down that wishes for and hopes for a happy ending because cosmetically we believe that is what resides at the end of every fairy tale not written by Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm (The Brothers Grimm).
It’s also interesting observing the main and supporting characters of the film or basically all of the “outsider” guests of the festival. Pelle acts as a conduit/guide between his village and the outside world, Josh is a historian/researcher, Mark is a mocker/fool, Dani and Christian are a strained couple, and Connie (Ellora Torchia) and Simon (Archie Madekwe) are a flourishing one. According to Wikipedia, Ari Aster based Dani and Christian’s relationship on a bad breakup. Midsommar is also way funnier than it has any right to be; something Hereditary completely distanced itself from. Midsommar goes out of its way to boast about who Dani’s real family is in the film. The unified chanting, outrageous theatrics, and harmonized moaning may seem like mockery or complete insanity to some. While it is humorous at times, it seems like this is the way the locals can experience everything everyone else does as a cohesive unit. This seems relevant to emotions, hallucinogens, and even sustenance; this cult does everything together.
Midsommar isn’t going to sit right with a lot of people, especially since Ari Aster desired to be confusing when it came to making the film. With all of the drug-taking in the film being so common, Midsommar may leave you feeling as groggy and disoriented as the characters on screen. However, in between the sacrifices, the brutality, the graphic nature of the film, inbred oracles, and plethora of naked mature women moaning in unison there’s something unique and brilliant about Midsommar you can’t find elsewhere. It may draw parallels to films like Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man and may feel like a bleaker version of The Wizard of Oz on a bad acid trip, but Midsommar is unlike any other film you’ll see this year. In a way, Dani and her friends all get exactly what they came for but the end outcome is that the majority of them bit off more than they could chew. Truth be told, you’ll never look at a bear in a film the same way again even if it does remind you of the Tanooki suit Mario wore in Super Mario Bros 3. This is the type of film where you could literally tell someone everything that happens and it wouldn’t really spoil the film for them. The context of these events is important to witness in succession and in their entirety since what each individual takes away from the film will likely differ person to person.
There’s a deliberate pacing of the film many will find too slow and uneventful as the film’s two and a half hour runtime will already feel daunting. Aster has teased that the original cut of the film was three hours and 45 minutes and he has a version of the film that is 25 minutes longer that was difficult to cut down to the theatrical cut currently in theaters. An extended cut of the film or a large amount of deleted scenes on the Blu-ray (how about that levitation sequence from the trailer?) would certainly be intriguing.
If you enjoy ambiguous filmmaking where everything isn’t explained and the film’s imagery can mean more than one specific thing, then Midsommar may be worth checking out. It is an outlandish experiment by Ari Aster that a large quantity will likely deem a failure. Personally speaking though, Midsommar is such an unconventionally different ceremonial fever dream loaded with preposterousness, beautiful cinematography, hilarity, and anxiety-fueled-dread that it’s not only memorable and bold but also the type of one-of-a-kind film experience I crave whenever the lights dim and the quiet hum of a projector accelerates into a dull yet soothing roar.
Dani’s (Florence Pugh) life is turned inside out once a devastating tragedy leaves her dumbstruck. She leans on her boyfriend of four years, Christian (Jack Reynor), for support, but their relationship is obviously strained. Along with their friends Josh (William Jackson Harper) and Mark (Will Poulter), Dani and Christian end up going on vacation to rural Sweden. They travel to a small village where their friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) grew up and now serves as their host. A rare nine-day festival that only occurs once every 90 years is being celebrated. Josh is utilizing the trip as a means to bulk up his folklore thesis for college while Mark is more interested in partaking in the Swedish women. Christian is attempting to figure out what his thesis will be while Dani searches for some sort of guidance after such a tragic occurrence. Their trip becomes increasingly more peculiar the longer they stay as they’re forced to witness violent rituals and are encouraged to embrace the ways of a Pagan cult.
The intricate illustrations throughout the film like in the opening shot, the elongated love potion cloth, or the walls of the barn-like structure Dani and her friends sleep in, give Midsommar this dark fairy tale aspect to it that a film like Pan’s Labyrinth would be proud of. The Pagan roots of Pelle’s village and the film’s metaphorical feet being so firmly planted in such rich folklore give Midsommar this cautiously fanciful aesthetic. The film capitalizes on the nostalgic sensation of when fairy tales and children’s books were read to you as a child. There are consistent signs that things aren’t right, paranoia lurks around every corner, and the locals set off every ominous alarm in your body, but there’s that naïve part of us buried deep down that wishes for and hopes for a happy ending because cosmetically we believe that is what resides at the end of every fairy tale not written by Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm (The Brothers Grimm).
It’s also interesting observing the main and supporting characters of the film or basically all of the “outsider” guests of the festival. Pelle acts as a conduit/guide between his village and the outside world, Josh is a historian/researcher, Mark is a mocker/fool, Dani and Christian are a strained couple, and Connie (Ellora Torchia) and Simon (Archie Madekwe) are a flourishing one. According to Wikipedia, Ari Aster based Dani and Christian’s relationship on a bad breakup. Midsommar is also way funnier than it has any right to be; something Hereditary completely distanced itself from. Midsommar goes out of its way to boast about who Dani’s real family is in the film. The unified chanting, outrageous theatrics, and harmonized moaning may seem like mockery or complete insanity to some. While it is humorous at times, it seems like this is the way the locals can experience everything everyone else does as a cohesive unit. This seems relevant to emotions, hallucinogens, and even sustenance; this cult does everything together.
Midsommar isn’t going to sit right with a lot of people, especially since Ari Aster desired to be confusing when it came to making the film. With all of the drug-taking in the film being so common, Midsommar may leave you feeling as groggy and disoriented as the characters on screen. However, in between the sacrifices, the brutality, the graphic nature of the film, inbred oracles, and plethora of naked mature women moaning in unison there’s something unique and brilliant about Midsommar you can’t find elsewhere. It may draw parallels to films like Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man and may feel like a bleaker version of The Wizard of Oz on a bad acid trip, but Midsommar is unlike any other film you’ll see this year. In a way, Dani and her friends all get exactly what they came for but the end outcome is that the majority of them bit off more than they could chew. Truth be told, you’ll never look at a bear in a film the same way again even if it does remind you of the Tanooki suit Mario wore in Super Mario Bros 3. This is the type of film where you could literally tell someone everything that happens and it wouldn’t really spoil the film for them. The context of these events is important to witness in succession and in their entirety since what each individual takes away from the film will likely differ person to person.
There’s a deliberate pacing of the film many will find too slow and uneventful as the film’s two and a half hour runtime will already feel daunting. Aster has teased that the original cut of the film was three hours and 45 minutes and he has a version of the film that is 25 minutes longer that was difficult to cut down to the theatrical cut currently in theaters. An extended cut of the film or a large amount of deleted scenes on the Blu-ray (how about that levitation sequence from the trailer?) would certainly be intriguing.
If you enjoy ambiguous filmmaking where everything isn’t explained and the film’s imagery can mean more than one specific thing, then Midsommar may be worth checking out. It is an outlandish experiment by Ari Aster that a large quantity will likely deem a failure. Personally speaking though, Midsommar is such an unconventionally different ceremonial fever dream loaded with preposterousness, beautiful cinematography, hilarity, and anxiety-fueled-dread that it’s not only memorable and bold but also the type of one-of-a-kind film experience I crave whenever the lights dim and the quiet hum of a projector accelerates into a dull yet soothing roar.