Midsommar - Moral Beauty In Psycho-Symbolic Horror

Thoughts On: Midsommar (2019)

A bereaved young woman travels with a group in which she may not belong into a community no one may belong.


Ari Aster rides the wave of acclaim set in motion by Hereditary into a horror film of what could be greater psycho-symbolic depth. Hereditary enjoys a greater depth of character than Midsommar with the twisted and dark pool within its mother and son archetypes flourishing on screen with intense power. Likely a result of its teen-adventure-goes-wrong horror genre tropes, Midsommar contains more object-archetypes (caricature-ish teens reduced to pawns of theme) than Hereditary, and furthermore has less focus on the exploration of subjectivity. This makes for a less intimate film, one with more space for spectacles of horror. Alas, the pockets of spectacle in Midsommar are utilised rather ingeniously. Imbued with photogenie, the horror of this film doubles as symbolic, which makes obvious the utility of symbolic spectacle. Examples are found in the pounding of flesh and bone, the destruction of the human body, the extinguishing of life, much of which is shot with serenely bright colours, angelic tones, slow motion and with intimate distancing. Photogenie is imbued into this horror by not only the meaning framed within these images by the lighting and frame-rate, but also the surrounding narrative and world building. The destruction of life, the amoral decimation of normal social codes and customs all then formulate the oppositional perspective or philosophy embodied by the 'strange place' the teens wander into. Uncoincidentally, these anti-parallel moral motions--exemplified best by the symbolic spectacle and its horrific photogenie--move with dramatic friction against our main character and object-archetype. Midsommar then finds itself to be a film about tragedy and recovery - much like Hereditary is. Alas, afforded to Midsommar are those crucial elements of intimate photogenie that both repulses and pulls. Hereditary contains its share of photogenie, but it is almost entirely repulsive. The blue, purple, yellow and black colour pallet of Hereditary, the twisted, expressionist shadows, the guttural and intestinal tone, generate a truly unsettling atmosphere. Midsommar takes a risk, and one may recognise this as conceptual spectacle, in being a horror film that takes place almost entirely during the day and in bright sunlight. The pen of the filmmakers then has no place to draw the imagination (except perhaps in linguistic barriers, the audience most likely not able to understand the much-spoken, little-subtitled Swedish). With the frame bereft of shadows, horror is required to be physically and totally curated within the eye's reach. In addition to this, the filmmakers must work both with and against the inviting atmosphere generated by the aesthetic scope of the film. So, whilst the explicitness of the framing (how close and unflinchingly it dares to stare) repulse, there are ecstatic moments of magnetism developed by the narrative and aesthetics. The ending of Midsommar then left me silenced.

Manifested by the narrative of Midsommar is, as suggested, a tale of recovery that juxtaposes a frighteningly communal - communal to the extent of amorality one will see - means of living against a lonesome and tragically isolated, yet socially enclosed, means of being. The 'strange place' visited by our group is then without many barriers, at times operating as a single organism gliding from a state of life to death with an obsession with preserving a conception of sanctity doused in a search for natural beauty and constructed purity. The visitors are harsh, their lives impaired and impregnated by barriers. There is then an awkwardness about the opening hour or so of this narrative that I have heard described as slow and boring. Alas, the slowness of the opening is the result of the awkward impossibility of the social barriers dictating the functioning of the lives of the young group. There is nothing trite about this; in fact, I would argue that this was established with optimal affect. And in contrast to all that is found in the strange place, the opening appears as incredibly brilliant. The culmination of all of this thematic drama is a shot. A shot. A shot of Florence's Pugh's face wreathed a mountain of floral plumes, her mouth ajar, her reaction to the realisation of the narrative's final thematic suggestions unspeakably profound.

I will remain ambiguous. Much more could be expanded upon and made explicit in this discussion of the brilliance that is Midsommar. But, I will end by saying that I found this to be an extension of Hereditary that may just outshine the former film. Seeing Midsommar was certainly one of the best cinematic experiences I have had the pleasure to be lost in this year. I highly recommend this film.






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