Midsommar (2019)

GENERAL INFO:
Director: Ari Aster
Studios: A24
Starring: Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor, Vilhelm Blomgren; ft. Will Poulter
Tagline: Let the Festivities Begin.
MPAA Rating: R
Genre: thriller, drama, psychological thriller, folk horror, Americans abroad, cult
Scare score: D+
Rating: A-

Plot overview: Following a terrible family tragedy, grieving Dani (Pugh) tags along with distant boyfriend Josh (Reynor) and his fellow anthropology graduate students on trip to partake in a once-in-a-lifetime traditional Swedish solstice festival at the invitation of their friend Pelle (Blomgren). Upon arriving to Hårga, Pelle's isolated commune in northern Sweden, a mix of psychedelic drugs and the delirious effects of the midnight sun soon turn the visitors' search for unique folk traditions into a bad trip of much darker pagan rituals.

This film was gorgeous. I rushed to see it in theaters on opening day, which means that I saw it in a much more crowded theater than I am used to attending. Being surrounded by teenagers took away from much of the film's mastery— especially in the more mature (read: nude) scenes. In many ways, this is a subtle film, filled with stunning shots, quiet beauty, and a storyline that allows you to slowly settle in and experience the characters' pain. In other ways, the film is not subtle and gives the audience all the tools we could possibly need to know exactly what to expect (mostly through the illustrated exposition in the jaw-dropping murals and folk art we see throughout the movie). I was reminded of Hereditary in this sense, which was filled with more than a fair share of Easter eggs, often in the form of small visuals and art that becomes easier to pay attention to and feast upon in second or third watchings. Some of my favorite bits included how the audience is invited to take place in the mushroom trips, including some funky camera work (such as the aerial shots when the larger group first heads to the commune) where the twisting camera makes us lose our own balance for a moment. I would love to watch it again as soon as possible in a deserted theater where I can get lost in the film's artful cinematography and careful details in order to keep reliving what I saw tonight.

Aside from the shots and excellent editing—I will never be over these rich visuals—the acting was fantastic. Florence Pugh was perfect for the role of Dani, especially early on when we get to experience those animalistic groans coming from her. There was something very important in this film about how bereft she often was, how heavy her depression weighs on us—much like Toni Collette's character in Hereditary—as well as the relationship dynamics that play out in the first third of the movie. Is Dani just an overly sensitive, overbearing girlfriend? Jack Reynor as the one-foot-in, one-foot-out boyfriend adds fun dynamics to the movie, especially towards the end as his character experiences a climax and denouement more typically assigned to females in horror. I have long said that I enjoy few things more than well-placed nudity in horror films, and Midsommar, like Hereditary, has it in spades, including plenty of Reynor such that a modern audience is bound to react to this perversion of mainstream movie "rules" and tropes. I also very much enjoyed the aesthetics and performance of Isabelle Grill as Maja, a younger adolescent in the commune who has been selected to take part in a very special ritual during the nine-day solstice celebration.

*SPOILER ALERT*

This movie is gorgeous but it is not scary. It is a slow-burning movie that makes us often forget we are in a "horror" movie because, aside from some moments of tension and some flashes of disturbing imagery (so well done), there is no extreme suspense such as we encountered in Hereditary, or even in an older film like The Wicker Man from which this movie so clearly pulls (including a nod at the end with the character of the fool... even Dani's floral gown reminded me of that large horse costume). I usually love horror movies about travelers in the abroad, and while I wonder if Midsommar will have the effect on Sweden that something like Hostel had on Eastern Europe, this movie was not as frightening as as the Netflix's wonderful The Ritual. Many of the "scary" scenes are presented so fantastically that we, too, become students of anthropology, more interested in the culture and in what is going to happen next than in the inevitable darkness of it all. I knew the movie felt long—rarely dragging, however—but I was shocked that I didn't know about the film's near-two-and-a-half-hour run time. That said, I just want to watch it again and again. I think the gore was surprisingly fine, not nearly as jarring as my fellow audience members made it out to be, and in fact I was surprised as how many major deaths happen offscreen without explanation or closure, and with fairly little emphasis given to the body discoveries that so often shape the third act of horror films. What sticks with me most is the murder-suicide from the beginning, which we are unwilling shown flashbacks to throughout the film in the most excellent ways. I think those are the most purely disturbing images that will stick with me, so painful, so contrasted in a cool palette set in midvinter (ha ha) from the rest of the film's near-blinding white and florals.

Some of my other favorite moments were the shared emotions among the members of the commune. The importance of a collectivist expression of pain, suffering, sorrow, and also joy morphed into such fantastic moments in this movie, especially during the ättestupa suicide ritual, Dani's final breakdown after the brilliant keyhole moment, and the emotionally whelming ending. As far as critiques go, I suppose we always knew where the movie was headed, so it was more of a matter of how we were going to get there.

Horror Hot Take: Midsommar is not a horror movie. Sure, some horrible things happen and there is fantastically beautiful and often gory imagery that we typically see in horror films, but this second feature from Ari Aster is not as steeped in the horror genre as its predecessor. Aster himself made it clear that while he was approached by producer Patrik Andersson to make a Swedish slasher film, he ultimately decided to make a movie about a breakup filled with as much pain and sorrow as the one he was then experiencing in real life.

That said, Midsommar (like Hereditary) is a movie about grief. There is a process, an arc, a journey that we ride along for as Dani grieves not only the shocking murder-suicide of her sister and parents but of her dying relationship and dying (and soon to be reborn) sense of self. A student of psychology herself, Dani's care-taking tendencies are obvious as she puts everyone else before herself to the point of having no ego strength, no boundaries, and no identity that is not in relation to others. Her relationship with Josh—himself a coward on many levels—is the definition of codependency as they shy away from fights and often apologize for each other's misgivings. Dani even gaslights herself and questions her own reality (forcing the audience to question our reality throughout the film). Truly it is a pitiful sight to watch: We feel sorry for Dani and her trauma, but foreshadowing already tips us off early on about the changes waiting to take place inside of her. Often dependent in nature, does Dani even exist if alone? This question explains her choice to find a new community, one that supports her unlike other people in her life, others who are now all gone.

Final critique: This is a visually stunning and emotionally gripping movie. It does not rely on musical cues or cheap scares by any means but rather uses striking visual after visual after visual to sink its way into the viewer's brain, pairing beautiful sights with more disturbing images and testing the audience insofar as what they are able to sit and watch. In the case of my crowded and mostly adolescent audience, the desire to react vocally to express even adjacent discomfort at some of the scenes and themes helped show just how rare and powerful Aster's critique of modern American masculinity vis a vis his inclusion of full frontal male nudity is in mainstream film. It was such a fun treat to watch a horror film that takes place primarily in bright—often blinding—light and does not rely on nighttime and shadows to show us the darker sides of humanity (especially following a film like Hereditary and its dark palette).

Hostel (2005)

GENERAL INFO:
Director: Eli Roth
Studios: Next Entertainment, Raw Nerve, Lionsgate, Screen Gems
Starring: Jay Hernandez, Derek Richardson, Eypór Gu∂jónsson
Tagline: Welcome To Your Worst Nightmare.
MPAA Rating: R
Genre: horror, thriller, psychological horror, body horror, torture, drama
Scare score: C+/B-
Rating: B+

Plot overview: Three friends are traveling Europe in search of forgettable girls and unforgettable adventure. When they're promised the best parties and hottest women, they travel farther east on their hunt for hookups. When they arrive to Slovakia, however, they unwillingly wind up in an international scheme where they become the hunted.

Who hasn't seen or heard of Hostel? This was released a year after Saw and in many ways the two films heralded in a new era of body horror and, more specifically, torture porn, which I feel many modern audiences most heavily associate with the horror genre today. Eli Roth made a name for himself several years earlier with the enjoyably bloody Cabin Fever— a movie which perhaps better bridges the gap from early 2000s horror into more body-centric terror. I would argue it's also no coincidence that the teen comedy EuroTrip was released in 2004, because in many ways Hostel is a perverted and nightmarish version of that film, complete with Josh (Richardson) moping over an ex-girlfriend, Amsterdam nightclubs, feisty strangers on a train, and winding up in Bratislava. Tell me that's a coincidence. Which leads me to my next point...

Above all else, Hostel is an exploration of the role of America (and Americans) in a post-9/11 world. The Bush era was a time when American backpackers were not welcome many places, when Americans abroad posed as Canadians to avoid the recently-marred reputation on the world stage. While it exploits some of the stereotypically obtuse nature of American tourists, it also serves as a commentary of American violence when we meet the fantastically creepy Rick Hoffman as the American client later in the film. In general, setting the majority of the film in an impoverished and third-world-looking version of the Slovakian capital of Bratislava drew major backlash from government and audiences in that country, which went on to invite Roth for an all-expenses-paid trip to show him their true beauty and culture. Roth explained that the film was not meant as an insult to the country or its people, but rather to make a point that most Americans wouldn't know Slovakia was a country, or at least that they wouldn't be able to place it on a map. While our main characters are fairly bright, this ignorance and the ensuing loss of innocence are explored in the film.

It's not a coincidence that the victims we see explicitly in the film are American and Japanese, or that German plays a large role, because I feel that this, too, is a commentary on power: Taking citizens of the world's most powerful and industrialized nations and subverting them into victims in a nightmarish pay-per-victim business in what is clearly portrayed as a developing country. Since the Cold War, Eastern Europe has long been viewed in the American imagination as some broken down and eternally foreign place lost in the past. I can see how this film certainly would have perpetuated those feelings. A major moment in the film comes when the formerly cocky and ignorant Paxton (Hernandez) begins speaking in fluent German to his torturer, thus tapping into the masked butcher's humane side and allowing Paxton to buy himself some more time to formulate a plan. To me, this represented the importance of culture and multicultural/ multilingual education as a path to salvation for Americans, who are stereotypically monolingual and ignorant of cultures other than their own state/ city/ family.

I really enjoy this film. I remember the first time I rented it with a friend back in high school and we just sat there half laughing half terrified at what was happening before us. The first half of the movie plays almost as an adult film until we are ushered into a dark transition. I absolutely adore the juxtaposition of these young men looking for sex and speaking poorly of sex workers, only to then find themselves as the meat or merchandise being sold to wealthy international clients. Natalya (Barbara Nedeljáková) explicitly points this out with a great line to Paxton later on: "I get a lot of money for you, and that makes you my bitch." There is something so crucial to the genre about this subversion of independence and agency into total obedience— and then enter the body horror as their physical forms get slowly mutilated. I think that is what differentiates body horror from splatter films: There is a larger focus on the physical mutilation than simply on the bodily fluids to follow. Hostel offers plenty of that as well, and if there was one scene most representative of the movie, it would probably be the infamous bit with the eyeball. Another great sequence is when Paxton is being dragged past the doors of different rooms in the factory (why are the doors open?) and we get brief glimpses into various snapshots of torture. My favorite scene may have been when Paxton is in his torture room and his vomit starts erupting around the ball gag that has just been put into his mouth. So excellent.

Another interesting theme the movie touches on not-so-shyly is that of a gay subtext. I recently listened to the Hostel episode of the usually fun and insightful Horror Queers podcast that brought this back to my attention since I had not seen the movie in years. Going back to American relations, I think another major stereotype/ reality we have is that European men are more "feminine," as we have come to understand that word in Western societies, meaning they are more openly sensual or comfortable with their bodies or in expressing themselves. Óli (Gu∂jónsson) shows off his butt more times than I can count and is openly interested in heterosexual couples copulating, as well as other kinks. Horror movies in the early 2000s are usually ripe with overt homophobia, and Hostel is no different. Our three brochachos are galavanting around Europe looking for "poosay," and it's primarily Josh who becomes a target for Paxton and Óli's homophobic remarks regarding Josh's use of a fanny pack (trendsetter!) or his reluctance to try and sleep with every single girl they encounter. One of the most interesting bits from the film is when the Dutch Businessman (Jan Vlasák) places his hand on Josh's thigh during the train ride, and Josh immediately freaks out. When they meet each other again, Josh tries to atone for his outburst by buying the businessman a drink at a bar, and he reciprocates the man's original gesture by placing his own hand on the man's thigh. This prompts the man to admit that he had to ignore his urges and start a family, but that Josh still has time to do what is right for him. There is really no other way to read this except that the man is admitting he is not heterosexual, but was forced into a heteronormative lifestyle, and that he acknowledges homosexual feelings in Josh and wants the adolescent to follow his own path (AKA telling Josh 'Gay is okay.') Josh seems confused by this exchange, and we don't really see too much more of it because at that point it's already too late for him anyway. While Paxton starts off the film as a pretty unrepentant homophobe, part of his arc is to get more in touch with his feelings as becomes more human and tries to survive his ordeal. The idea of these men tied up and made subservient is one aspect of that, as well as some of the general torture/ BDSM equipment we see in the factory, including the ball gag used on Paxton. At the end of the film, the bathroom kill scene is also heavy on the gay allusions as cruising in bathrooms was historically (and still remains) a way to rendezvous with or meet other men. (We have seen this touched upon in other horror movies, such as the 2007 Halloween remake or even the latest installment from 2018.)

In general, I think the acting is pretty solid in this movie, more so in specific scenes than in general. I do like the hunky Hernandez as our final boy Paxton— bet you didn't see that coming when the movie started. Surviving the ordeal becomes fairly ridiculous, especially when he's an inch away from escape and hears screams coming from inside the factory (how?), triggering him to rescue Kana (Jennifer Lim) as redemption for the little girl he didn't stop from drowning in that minor backstory you might have missed in the first place. Facing the trauma of the moment, it's wild that his brain even allowed him to process that, whereas most of us would be in full-on flight, fight, or freeze. I feel so-so about Derek Richardson as the more empathetic Josh, but he has perhaps the biggest standout moment of the movie when he first comes to in his torture cell. This is our first introduction to the reality of the movie as well, and his realization/ begging for mercy/ suffering is one of the best sequences in the entire film.

Overall, this movie is not very scary. Violence and gore are very separate from actual scares to me, so while they are certainly heavy in those departments, the film itself is more terrifying psychologically in the reality of what is happening with the Elite Hunting organization. That name also cracked me up, what with an ego-boosting suggestion that these butchers were "hunters," when in reality their prey is being handed to them. Maybe some commentary on big game hunting there as well. The first half of the movie is all setting us up for the second half, and there is really very little horror in the beginning at all, which is interesting. A few scenes end up fairly silly, like the most dramatic low-speed hit and run we've ever witnessed (RIP Eastern European accomplices) or that other classic scene on the train platform at the end. (AMAZING blood splatter on random women. LOVE that.) The movie also ends on a really weird note, I was almost surprised that that was it.

I also picked up on some great Shining references throughout the movie, from the presence of the number 237, to the camera angles approaching the factory (similar to approaching the Overlook), even to the string-heavy music in some scenes. That was fun to see throughout. The music, however, is pretty corny, and I think that hurts the scares in otherwise dark scenes. There is a great soundtrack in the beginning of the movie, but by the time the terror kicks in, the score sounds very outdated and overdramatic. Was a bit turned off by that as well.

Final critique: This movie is a wild ride that many audiences are sure to enjoy. This came early on in the years of modern body horror and torture porn, with just a few explicit scenes but plenty of special effects, makeup, props, and bodily fluids to add to the overall feel. If you can't do gore, there is no reason why you should even attempt this movie. Otherwise, it's quirky in its own ways, but mostly a quick and enjoyable watch with plenty of deeper subtexts that helped boost Eli Roth to major fame in the genre.