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Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Midsommar (2019) in Movies
Jan 22, 2021
In 2017 the stale market of “horror” thrillers got a royal shake-up when Jordan Peele made Get Out. All of a sudden it seemed possible again to use the tired genre, that had been relying on gore and jump shocks alone for at least two decades, as a palette for intelligent social commentary and some seriously artistic flourishes. The following year, Ari Aster came out of nowhere with a debut feature that impressed everyone for it’s originality and bravado in this new “art-horror” model – the devisive yet always interesting Hereditary, a film that confused me on first watch, but gave me faith that I could be unnerved again, it’s secret being that you couldn’t compare it to anything since the golden days of the 70s.
So, when I saw the trailer for Midsommar in 2019 and realised it was the same director, it went straight to the top of my must see list. Add to the appeal the significant lure of the lead actress and main character, the extremely promising Florence Pugh, who blew me away for her raw ability in Lady Macbeth, and beguiled me even more in every minute of Chan-Wook Park’s superlative espionage mini-series The Little Drummer Girl, and I knew this was something I didn’t want to miss. Sometimes it only takes two projects on a CV to elevate a future star from obscurity to A-list potential. In Pugh I had already seen enough range, charisma and depth to suspect she was one of those special few. By the end of Midsommar I was convinced of it!
Plot wise, all you need to know going in cold is that Dani (Pugh) racked with grief following early scenes is dragged to Sweden to participate in the Midsommar celebrations of a small isolated community, as her relationship with boyfriend Christian is very much on the rocks and she is in need of some catharsis and release. At first the Idyllic setting, bathed in sunlight you can almost feel, seems refreshing and clean. The whites, yellows and blues of the images are so crisp you can imagine every smell and texture, and you find yourself smiling, despite the fact a creeping unease and sinister secret is already infiltrating the calm in wonderfully subtle ways.
Needless to say it goes to some very dark and strange places. So much so I gasped out loud twice and stood up from my seat involuntarily on one particularly disturbing moment. To try and explain how that unfolds and comes to be is both impossible and would need some big time spoilers, so I won’t do that. It’s enough to say that where you are emotionally at the end of this filmic experience is very, very far from where you started. Much in the same way as Hereditary, you feel you have been dragged by the hair on a very uncomfortable journey that is both strangely unsatisfying, confusing and upsetting; you can’t say you “liked” either film as much as admitting you can’t stop thinking about them and need to see them again to absorb the detail, if indeed you can bear that.
As of writing this I haven’t gone back and watched this again – I’m genuinely wary of putting myself through it a second time! But, I have gone back to Hereditary and appreciated it much more knowing the ending already, and seeing the detail that is there from the beginning, that makes it all make sense in a way it doesn’t first time around. Midsommar, I sense, is the same, in that there has been so much attention to the build up and background that you will see and hear relevant clues to the mystery much more the more times you watch it. What they are wearing, images on walls and seemingly insignificant things the camera picks up on create a tapestry of loose threads that can be woven together into deeper meaning if that is what you want to do.
Without doing that it may seem like a bewildering entity, deliberately odd for the sake of it, and as such it could put anyone off. At 2 hours and 28 minutes it is a bit of a stretch, and the last half hour, once it descends into the complete madness suggested earlier, perhaps doesn’t live up to the promises it makes. Also, despite Pugh being a mesmeric presence from start to finish, the supporting cast can’t quite go with her on the same level. Even the talented Will Poulter seems burdened by a less than three dimensional character, underwritten as are many in a script that focuses so much on Dani that everything else suffers.
My overall impression of it as a film is that it falls short of greatness by a narrow margin, but comes very close at times to genuine genius. It is the promise of Aster as a filmmaker that excites me most, even if this is not the film it could have been with a little more experience, maturity and, perhaps, budget. It is his Bottle Rocket, or Hard Eight, when you suspect he will have a Grand Budapest Hotel, or a There Will Be Blood in him at some point down the line.
In conclusion, I can’t emphasise enough how much I was drawn to every moment of what Florence Pugh was doing. Be wary of the film if a casual viewing experience is what you want, because it may infuriate you, and compel you even to switch it off, if you are not totally ready to meet it where it wants to take you. But, watch it for Pugh and see what a rare talent she is bringing to cinema into the 2020s. A very exciting prospect indeed.
So, when I saw the trailer for Midsommar in 2019 and realised it was the same director, it went straight to the top of my must see list. Add to the appeal the significant lure of the lead actress and main character, the extremely promising Florence Pugh, who blew me away for her raw ability in Lady Macbeth, and beguiled me even more in every minute of Chan-Wook Park’s superlative espionage mini-series The Little Drummer Girl, and I knew this was something I didn’t want to miss. Sometimes it only takes two projects on a CV to elevate a future star from obscurity to A-list potential. In Pugh I had already seen enough range, charisma and depth to suspect she was one of those special few. By the end of Midsommar I was convinced of it!
Plot wise, all you need to know going in cold is that Dani (Pugh) racked with grief following early scenes is dragged to Sweden to participate in the Midsommar celebrations of a small isolated community, as her relationship with boyfriend Christian is very much on the rocks and she is in need of some catharsis and release. At first the Idyllic setting, bathed in sunlight you can almost feel, seems refreshing and clean. The whites, yellows and blues of the images are so crisp you can imagine every smell and texture, and you find yourself smiling, despite the fact a creeping unease and sinister secret is already infiltrating the calm in wonderfully subtle ways.
Needless to say it goes to some very dark and strange places. So much so I gasped out loud twice and stood up from my seat involuntarily on one particularly disturbing moment. To try and explain how that unfolds and comes to be is both impossible and would need some big time spoilers, so I won’t do that. It’s enough to say that where you are emotionally at the end of this filmic experience is very, very far from where you started. Much in the same way as Hereditary, you feel you have been dragged by the hair on a very uncomfortable journey that is both strangely unsatisfying, confusing and upsetting; you can’t say you “liked” either film as much as admitting you can’t stop thinking about them and need to see them again to absorb the detail, if indeed you can bear that.
As of writing this I haven’t gone back and watched this again – I’m genuinely wary of putting myself through it a second time! But, I have gone back to Hereditary and appreciated it much more knowing the ending already, and seeing the detail that is there from the beginning, that makes it all make sense in a way it doesn’t first time around. Midsommar, I sense, is the same, in that there has been so much attention to the build up and background that you will see and hear relevant clues to the mystery much more the more times you watch it. What they are wearing, images on walls and seemingly insignificant things the camera picks up on create a tapestry of loose threads that can be woven together into deeper meaning if that is what you want to do.
Without doing that it may seem like a bewildering entity, deliberately odd for the sake of it, and as such it could put anyone off. At 2 hours and 28 minutes it is a bit of a stretch, and the last half hour, once it descends into the complete madness suggested earlier, perhaps doesn’t live up to the promises it makes. Also, despite Pugh being a mesmeric presence from start to finish, the supporting cast can’t quite go with her on the same level. Even the talented Will Poulter seems burdened by a less than three dimensional character, underwritten as are many in a script that focuses so much on Dani that everything else suffers.
My overall impression of it as a film is that it falls short of greatness by a narrow margin, but comes very close at times to genuine genius. It is the promise of Aster as a filmmaker that excites me most, even if this is not the film it could have been with a little more experience, maturity and, perhaps, budget. It is his Bottle Rocket, or Hard Eight, when you suspect he will have a Grand Budapest Hotel, or a There Will Be Blood in him at some point down the line.
In conclusion, I can’t emphasise enough how much I was drawn to every moment of what Florence Pugh was doing. Be wary of the film if a casual viewing experience is what you want, because it may infuriate you, and compel you even to switch it off, if you are not totally ready to meet it where it wants to take you. But, watch it for Pugh and see what a rare talent she is bringing to cinema into the 2020s. A very exciting prospect indeed.