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).

The Wicker Man (1973)

GENERAL INFO:
Director: Robin Hardy
Studios: British Lion Films
Starring: Edward Woodward, Christopher Lee, Britt Ekland, Diane Cilento; ft. Ingrid Pitt
Tagline: Flesh to touch... Flesh to burn! Don't keep the Wicker Man waiting!
MPAA Rating: R
Genre: horror, psychological thriller, mystery, drama, suspense, cult, occult
Scare score: C-
Rating: B+

Plot overview: After receiving a mysterious letter alerting him about a missing girl, police Sergeant Neil Howie (Woodward) ventures alone to the remote Scottish island of Summerisle. His investigation is steadily thwarted by the townspeople, who first deny that the girl, Rowan (Gerry Cowper), ever existed and then claim that she passed away. Howie, a devout Christian, is further put off by the locals' pagan beliefs and traditions, headed by the genteel but unsympathetic Lord Summerisle (Lee). As Howie grows closer to solving the mystery, he becomes part of the town's May Day celebrations and soon learns the horrifying truth about the island and its people.

I have mixed feelings about this movie mostly because of the time period and because of how much thrilling potential the film ultimately fails to live up to. That being said, it was shot on a small budget and was a fairly rushed production, and given the general kitsch of the genre in the early '70s, it's incredible what a lasting impact this movie has had.

The Wicker Man is equally imaginative and macabre, well-researched and well if dramatically acted, and it includes some truly beautiful shots of Scotland and the Hebrides, especially in the stunning opening and final sequences. Even with the beautiful open landscapes, we feel a sort of claustrophobia as Howie enters the tiny island community, remaining an outcast in every sense of the word throughout his investigation. There is something frustrating about trying to take something seriously—especially the alleged disappearance of a child—only to be met with folly, ridicule, and condescension, and Howie encounters that in spades.

Aside from its great plot—adapted from David Pinner's novel Ritual and in many ways recreated in the Netflix original Apostle—this movie relies on strong acting to carry us through the deepening mystery. Edward Woodward forces us to take him as seriously as Sgt. Howie takes himself in the movie and delivers some especially wonderful scenes closer to the end. How special is it to see the late, great Christopher Lee? Hot off his success with Hammer Horror (which I grew up on but haven't reviewed yet!), a younger-than-we're-used-to-seeing-him Lee takes on a more cerebral role as the lofty and manipulative Lord Summerisle. More like Lord Exposition amirite? Still, a great performance from him. Individual characters also stand out throughout the film in varied and creepy ways, most notably the Swedish beauty Britt Ekland as a pagan temptress, her creepy father played by Lindsay Kemp (a lover and muse of David Bowie), an especially sinister Aubrey Morris as the gravedigger, and a very formidable Ian "Mammoth" Campbell.

Fun fact: In a 2005 interview, Christopher Lee would consider this his best film. Saruman and Counts Dooku and Dracula can take a hike.

Though the editing feels choppy throughout and I don't think the mystery meets its full potential, this movie has a lot of positive points. Designed specifically to deliver more drawn out suspense and not to rely fully on jump scares or gore unlike other horror movies of the time, The Wicker Man is an enduringly creepy movie. The disturbing norms and traditions of Summerisle start early in the movie and don't stop coming, more often than not based around or in the form of music and dancing. The filmmakers did a great job at researching paganism and representing it in a fairly unbiased way throughout the movie— in fact, the only judgments we see made upon these traditions come from the zealous Howie. The film features plenty of mellow '70s music—I felt like I was listening to Nick Drake half the time—but there is some really beautiful traditional music as well. Some of the most memorably unsettling musical scenes are the May pole, birds-and-bees-style song led by children and the schoolmaster as well as some horrifying chanting and arm-swaying at the end.

Final critique: Overall, this is a weird movie that remains eerie and impactful nearly 50 years later— it really does put the "cult" in cult classic. Part of me wishes it were made in a different time period or with a different production quality, but at the end of the day, it all came together to make something very digestible for general audiences without being too scary to watch. Really it's hardly scary at all, but the questions it raises are where the true terror comes in. While watching, you know you're uncomfortable or frightened, even if you can't put your finger on it, and the suspense builds beautifully right up until the last shot.

Hereditary (2018)

GENERAL INFO:
Director: Ari Aster
Studios: A24, PalmStar Media, Finch Entertainment, Windy Hill Pictures
Starring: Toni Collette, Ann Dowd, Alex Wolff, Milly Shapiro
Tagline: Every family tree hides a secret.
MPAA Rating: R
Genre: horror, supernatural thriller, family drama, mystery, occult, witches, cult
Scare score: A
Rating: A+

Plot overview: After the death of her secretive mother, Annie Graham's (Collette) family begins to be plagued by suspicious and tragic events. Stricken by grief, Annie falls farther away from her family: strained husband Steve (Gabriel Byrne), withdrawn son Peter (Wolff), and distant daughter Charlie (Shapiro). As the family continues to unravel, Annie finds solace in Joan (Dowd), a woman from a grief support group who tries convincing her that the dead may not really be gone after all.

This is a stunningly horrifying film that I would recommend to anyone. If you want to truly spiral into terror and insanity and spill your popcorn all over the place, this is the movie for you.

I think what I love most about this movie is that it keeps on taking you where you do not expect it to go. It's really not a genre bender, but I swear, even the second time I watched it I was so impressed and delighted with the twists and turns it takes. This movie constantly keeps you on the edge of your seat as its horrible reality unfurls.

We start with the Graham family, currently faced with the loss of Annie's mysterious mother, Ellen. Though grief-struck, we come to realize that it is not at the loss of the old woman but at something deeper and perhaps long gone. In fact, the only person who seems truly upset with Ellen's passing is young Charlie, a seeming outcast who is often silent save for her habitual tongue click. Her fixation with building toys and models with mismatched heads feels somehow disturbing but pales in comparison to her mother's works: Annie is an artist renowned for her work crafting miniatures, impeccably created scenes from her past and present all on display in smaller scale in her workshop. Her art should be for the world to see, but with an upcoming exhibition looming on Annie's mind and feeling ever more unlikely, the miniatures instead become for Annie alone. They provide what she calls "a neutral view," but we come to learn that these fastidiously-made models are a way for Annie to reflect on her own choices and memories and control everything therein.

Despite their troubles, the family maintains a semblance of normality until another freak accident spins everything out of control. More on that after the Spoiler jump.

The acting in this film is fantastic. There is something sinister about Collette throughout the movie that makes you question her at every turn, even when it feels like she is the only person so desperately trying to keep her family from falling apart. The movie provides beautiful commentary on grief, mental illness, and family, especially between children and their parents. It forces us to ask what is the meaning (or purpose) of family? What do we inherit aside from names and traditions? What things do we carry with and inside of us, even if we would rather not? I'm definitely on the bandwagon that Collette was snubbed for major award recognition because her performance here is wide-ranging and superb and should go down as a classic in the horror genre. I was equally impressed by young Alex Wolff, a former child star on Nickelodeon and now a budding actor and director. The role of Peter is crucial to the film and Wolff portrays the reserved, greasy-haired, pot-smoking teen so naturally. I thought it was especially wonderful how vulnerable Peter was, and the scenes were he is clearly terrified or left crying really stuck with me. Ann Dowd was also a treat, and I thought her voice was really perfect for her role and the lines she has in the movie.

Furthermore, the cinematography is beautiful. The shots in and around the Grahams' home were fantastic, as were the many scenes taking place in and around cars: I especially liked the use of the rearview mirrors. There is also the terrific use of the color red: From heat lamps to break lights to bloody eyes, there is something haunting and demonic about it. Toward the end of the film, we are treated to some really spectacular camera work as an unsteady, wavering camera follows characters around the dark house. The movie plays with the concept of Annie's miniatures vs. real life and several times we're not sure if what we're looking at is real or an imitation— or if it matters either way. Is this Annie's perspective and can we trust it? Or are the lofty, overhead shots supposed to be from God's eye (or something else floating above)? Lastly, the film has some delightfully unexpected transitions, such as when day suddenly turns to night in the same frame or when ominous bodies and figures are teased just in or just out of focus.

I also thought the movie had great music, most of all the stunning orchestrations in the final sequence, and a lot of the soundtrack reminded me of The VVitch, which is also distributed by A24, one of my favorite production companies of the moment both for horror and other genres. I'm currently counting down the days until Ari Aster's next movie (also with A24), Midsommar.

*SPOILER ALERT*

I love how quickly things start to fall apart for the characters in this movie, and with most of the action concentrated in the first and third acts, plus plenty of scares and drama when you least expect it, you're pretty captivated for the entire thing. We have the classic case of an unreliable narrator potentially slipping into madness, which means we're never quite sure who or what to believe as events start to spiral out of control. We learn early on that Annie's family has a history of severe mental illness, especially disorders with high rates of heritability such as schizophrenia or depression. There is horror in the film long before the thrilling end, and that is in the death of the family unit. As the Grahams continue to fall apart, evil continues to gain a stronger hold. I thought one of the saddest moments of the film was when a manic Annie tries comforting Peter by acknowledging that something terrible is happening, reassuring her terrified son and saying "I'm the only one who can fix this." At this point, we already don't believe her. But is mental health really any explanation for what's happening here, or is it something more supernatural entirely?

I adore this movie. If you pay close enough attention, you'll realize that something is off from the earliest scenes, perhaps starting with the man at Ellen's funeral smiling so intently at Charlie. I loved how these unnerving and suspenseful moments grew in frequency and scale throughout the movie, ultimately leading to the climax of the cult moving in on the Graham household. Shots with ominous figures just in range but still obscured are some of my favorite in horror, and this movie starts with single figures before giving us that incredible shot of dozens of naked bodies surrounding the house. I think the disturbing use of naked bodies in horror is incredibly effective, especially if done the way this movie or It Follows does it. We're so used to the hypersexualization of bodies in horror that their unwanted appearance perverts the entire process and makes already-scary scenes all the more frightening.

Other details I loved in this movie were the awesome seance scenes and the unforgettable finale with Toni Collette lingering in the shadows of the ceiling. I'm always into a classroom scene that mirrors the plot (à la Halloween), and we get several of them in this movie if you know to pay attention to them. At one point we can read "Punishment brings wisdom" on the blackboard in Peter's classroom, and we also hear a teacher explaining that a character's "murder was commanded by the gods." Little does Peter know while zoning out in class and staring at his crush's butt that he, too, is involved in a much larger and sinister plot with otherworldly beings taking control. I thought the tongue click may have been the single most ingenious thing this movie did (who knew how scary it sounded?), and I love that something as simple as a nut allergy was enough to take down a demon, or at least his weak human form. The car scene with the two kids in the middle of nowhere is just such a treat, because it breaks my number one cardinal rule and takes you so by surprise you almost can't believe it's really happening. Though I find it hard to believe that even a traumatized teen would be able to simply drive away and go to bed without telling his parents, Collette's reaction to this untimely (and familiar) loss is fantastic. As the story comes together, it makes sense why Annie described it as feeling like she "gave up" Charlie to her mother (never let grandma breastfeed the kids), or why her brother committed suicide and blamed his decision on his mother for "putting people inside" of him. It's no surprise that in the West, the medical model is preferred over supernatural explanations, and mental disorders are diagnosed in cases that other cultures might attribute to spiritual causes. Hereditary shares that theme with The Exorcist, not to mention the whole possession of innocent children by demon kings of the west.

The ending of the film is one of the most memorable things to happen to horror in recent years, and I truly hope the movie goes down in horror halls of fame far outside of Horror Buff's own blog.

Final critique: This movie is a treat and I would recommend it to anybody, but I would warn them that they are really in for a wild and scary ride. Hereditary takes twists and turns unlike we've seen in a long time, and it masterfully mixes classic horror themes and tropes with new and refreshing characters and situations. Hats off to Ari Aster on this screenplay; this is the kind of horror movie that can redeem the entire genre for mainstream audiences. I look forward to rewatching this time and again.

Rosemary's Baby (1968)

GENERAL INFO:
Director: Roman Polanski
Studios: William Castle Productions, Paramount Pictures
Starring: Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes, Ruth Gordon, Sidney Blackmer
Tagline: Pray for Rosemary's Baby
MPAA Rating:  R
Genre: horror, supernatural thriller, drama, suspense, witches, cult, spawn of satan
Scare score: C+
Rating: A

Plot overview: Rosemary (Farrow) and Guy (Cassavetes) Woodhouse are a happy young couple living in a luxurious, new apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. Guy is a driven, aspiring actor, and Rosemary is a kind but naïve homemaker and hopeful mother-to-be. Although warned by their dear friend Hutch (Maurice Evans) about the strange and dark history of their new building, The Bramford, the young couple are happy in their apartment and are openly embraced by their elderly, eccentric neighbors Minnie (Gordon) and Roman (Blackmer) Castevet. After Rosemary conceives, she goes through an increasingly painful pregnancy, but she has Minnie to help her with home remedies and even the care of one of New York's top obstetricians, Dr. Sapirstein (Ralph Bellamy). As her concern about her unborn child grows greater, Rosemary also begins to learn about the possibility that Roman's family and friends practice witchcraft. Unfortunately, Guy becomes more distant as his acting career takes off substantially. Ultimately alone and scared, Rosemary becomes more desperate to protect her unborn baby, although soon she will realize it might be herself that needs the protection.

This movie is great. Hands down, it is a slow and steady, suspenseful success. Following the eerie (irritating) opening music, we find ourselves in a very real 1960s Manhattan. Rosemary is perfectly chic throughout the whole movie, from her mod minidress, to the wallpaper she puts up in the nursery, to her iconic Vidal Sassoon haircut. While the plot isn't something I personally believe to be plausible, the world that it takes place within most certainly was copied from Polanski and author Ira Levin's real life.

Let's start by talking about Mia Farrow. I mean, come on. She makes Rosemary such an interesting protagonist, even though she spends most the movie confused, in pain, or scared. While there isn't exactly enough depth to make her very realistic (mainly just a mother's instinct to protect her child), there is something really interesting about her. I enjoyed following her on her scary and uncertain journey through pregnancy and potential insemination by satan. Mainly I liked her look: mod, frail, cute, and determined. She was a truly perfect choice for this role.

The other character that sticks out for me, as she did for awards committees at the time, is Minnie Castevet. Ruth Gordon is a ridiculous character from her first scene to her last. The best part is, there are absolutely women like this living in Manhattan that you encounter from time to time on the subway or sidewalk: those old, loud, noisy, tacky, 'devil may care' types— you know to stay out of their way. Ruth turns Minnie into an almost preposterous character who, while annoying, we can still find to be endearing. The mystery behind the many characters in this cast leaves us questioning who is good and who is bad until the end, when perhaps we question our own definitions of 'good' and 'evil.'

I guess the only thing I don't love in this movie is that it drags on at times. At 136 minutes, this certainly isn't the longest film we've ever seen, but the lack of action makes it more noticeable. Not that this movie would benefit from much more action than it already has, but I'm just saying. We can only watch Rosemary wander around pregnant and in pain for so long.

*SPOILER ALERT*

Otherwise I kind of enjoy that any logical audience member goes into the movie more or less knowing what's going to happen. Honestly, we are as in on the plot as the rest of the coven, with only Rosemary being left out. *Irony* Still, any film that can pull this predictable plot off while maintaining an audience—and finding new fans even 50 years later—is a home run.

Final critique:  If you are looking for a wild, fast-paced ride of scares and jumps, this is not the movie you want. If you are looking for a deeper, suspenseful, and subtly terrifying horror classic, then you've come to the right place. I would recommend Rosemary's Baby to any viewers, as it is a relatively calm and all around enjoyable movie with only a few scares or disturbing images. Really excellent film right here, perfect for a rainy afternoon or a quite night in.