It’s so strange. I came out of the new Ari Aster film, Midsommar, feeling pretty much exactly the same way I felt about Hereditary. I really like it, but I feel like I should’ve loved it, and much of it is for all the same reasons. But before we get to that, for formality’s sake – Midsommar follows Dani (Florence Pugh), a college student who recently went through a tremendous loss. This loss forces her relationship with her boyfriend, Christian, to keep going despite it being on the brink of falling apart. She ends up joining him and his friends, Mark (Will Poulter), Josh (William Jackson Harper), and Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren), to a trip to Sweden. Once there, they make their way to a remote commune where Pelle grew up. As festivities ensue, the students encounter something far stranger than anything they expected.
At the very least, with Midsommar, Ari Aster cements himself as a distinct voice in horror filmmaking. He knows how to bring in a strong and vivid emotional hook, he knows when to lean on the gore and when to hold back, he revels in creating an uncomfortable atmosphere, even before the actual horror elements kick in, and his compositions with the camera are nothing short of precise and immaculate. There’s a lot to love in the craftsmanship. The film is filled to the brim with details, both in subtle character beats, and in the way the environments and production design inform the story or the character’s journeys.
However, similar to Hereditary, there’s an odd disconnect between some of the themes that Aster is interested in exploring and the way it connects to the story being told. Midsommar deals very much in grief like Hereditary with Dani struggling to move on from the tragedy that happens in the beginning of the film. Along with that is the idea of exploring toxic relationships and the subtle, indirect ways men can abuse women emotionally. Christian is only with Dani out of obligation, but his gestures are largely superficial and disingenuous. Him being there to help her is actually far from it. However, those ideas ultimately seem incidental to the story, like a brief detour that the film dabbles in on occasion before getting back to showing another weird or scary image. The events of the film don’t seem to have much connection, either literally or metaphorically to the disintegrating relationship between Dani and Christian, and by the time it gets to the big payoff, it doesn’t resonate quite as strongly as I think it should have.
The film also doesn’t necessarily break any new ground on the folk horror formula with aspects and imagery you’ve already seen in films like The Blood on Satan’s Claw, or Witchfinder General, or The Wicker Man (though, weirdly enough, I’m pretty sure there is a subtle nod to the remake in the end of this). That isn’t necessarily a problem, especially given how well crafted of a pastiche this is. It’s near two-and-a-half hour runtime can seem excessive, and at parts, it certainly is, but it’s never boring. There’s almost always something weird, creepy, or funny happening on screen.
Speaking of, one of the aspects I liked most about Hereditary is present here as well. Midsommar is really funny! It’s not a gutbuster by any means, but there’s a consistently sly and dark sense of humor that permeates the whole film. From cringe-worthy exchanges between characters, to offhand remarks, to moments that are just so baffling you can’t help but chuckle. Aster is the kind of filmmaker who always seems to be in on the joke, and he brings an almost nihilistic thread through his work, relishing in making the characters suffer, sometimes to comical levels, while still trying to maintain a sense of weight and significance. That’s where I think he gets a bit sloppy, but it still remains engaging.
It sounds like I’m being super critical, but I did really enjoy Midsommar, and about as much as I did with Hereditary. I wish I loved them both, but I’ll settle for “liking a lot.” I think Ari Aster has something really special in him that is waiting to come out in a future project, and I can’t wait to see what it is. As far as Midsommar goes, it’s a delightfully weird, gnarly, and – at times – silly little movie that takes some mighty big swings for a wide release horror film, and it’s all grounded in terrific performances from the cast – Florence Pugh can do no wrong, as far as I’m concerned. It’s indulgent, but it mostly earns it through its hypnotic filmmaking and commitment to some wacko ideas.