Midsommar (2019)

Okay, so just a couple of warnings.
1) 🚨Spoilers🚨
2) It's about to get real fucking feminal* up in here.

*"relating to a woman". It's archaic but I kind of love it.

I have been processing this film for a while. Letting it sink in and then rise to the surface of my thoughts over and over. Usually, I try to bang out reviews fast but this one needed time. Honestly, I still don't quite know how I'm going to approach it. I'm writing and hoping my thoughts align, somehow!

To begin, I'll say that Midsommar was a balm on the wounds still smarting from my terrible viewing experience of Hereditary. There is much here linking the two: the theme of grief/trauma, the  bordering on (and sometimes tipping into) comedic melodrama, Aster's delicious visual style, and the symbolism (triangles: the shape of choice for the horror genre).

I now definitely count myself among those excited for his next film and how these explorations and links may continue.

Christian (Jack Reynor) and Dani (Florence Pugh)

In his Fangoria interview with Jordan Peele, Aster calls this a "breakup movie dressed in the clothes of a folk horror film". And ponders - as this chat took place before Midsommar hit our screens - how people may feel as they leave the theater after.

"I hope people walk out feeling elated and happy, despite the fact they just watched a small massacre".

Mission accomplished, Ari. I felt like standing up and applauding at the film's end. That smile on Dani's face... I felt invigorated.

What's fantastic about Midsommar is not only the juxtaposition of horrible imagery, stunning tableau-like shots and bizarre glimpses into the idiosyncrasies of Hårga - though those aspects are wonderful, of course - it's that we witness Dani and Christian on this journey of the slow implosion of their relationship, to the point where one partner makes a decision to have the other murdered in a ritual sacrifice and it doesn't feel at all excessive. It's a "horrific" breakup quite literally.

Perhaps it's because I identified with Dani so much... but really, who hasn't wanted to burn a shitty boyfriend alive?!

Aster draws these characters with care; many of the smaller moments feel so real and they work to build an understanding of the emotional chasm between many of the men and women we meet. Dani's stream-of-consciousness phone call to her friend about her relationship; bringing an issue to a partner only to find yourself apologising by the end of the conversation; the way Ingemar (Hampus Hallberg) and Connie (Ellora Torchia) interpret a past situation so differently ("we dated" / "...we had a drink"), Dani's breathing when she's trying to hold off a panic attack, and how Christian silently, awkwardly holds her as she screams her loss during the opening scenes, compared to the women of Hårga who emote along with her later on.

Over the past year or so, a number of films have been made that have resulted in me sitting back, exhaling, and realising what a sense of power and strength they conveyed to a female audience. This is a feeling that pop culture has been handing men since the dawn of cinema, but now it feels like new things are playing in front of my eyes that strike something deep in my being. Something I didn't know I was missing until relatively recently.

Stacie Ponder on Gaylords of Darkness called it a "power fantasy paradigm" and that's such an awesome way to phrase it.

There's the connection, sisterhood and female leaders of Suspiria; of being enough and not having to prove anything (especially to men) from Captain Marvel*. And now with this, again a feeling of female connection (the dancing, the breathing/primal screaming, the sex scene) and finding a strength you always had within yourself. Her smile at the end broke me and rebuilt me all at once. I felt my own face reflecting Dani's. It was art!

*Yes, not a genre film and yes I was suprised I felt so empowered by that movie. But I did!

This film brought me such joy in so many ways. It also made me want to a) watch it again, immediately, and b) rewatch Aster's debut feature with a renewed appreciation for this writer/director's unique vision and voice. It is MIND-BLOWING that this is only his second feature film.

It also brought to mind several others that beg to be revisited - or at least included, as I mentally curate my Midsommar-inspired film festival...

• The Wicker Man - ...obviously
• Kill List - Cults, symbols
• A Field In England - Outdoors; hallucinogenic visuals, mysticism
• Apostle - A small community with shocking traditions; becoming one with the earth
• The Endless - Cult/commune; clueless newcomers
• Suspiria (2018) - Sisterhood; female leader; dancing as a powerful energy

I'm definitely going to be seeking some of these out again as I ponder "folk horror" for the remainder of the summer, wait impatiently for Midsommar's Blu-ray release and work on a flower crown.

This is a beautiful, perfectly woven tapestry of humour, heartbreak, and death. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Shelley (2016) & Antibirth (2016)

This turned out to be an inspired "fucked up pregnancy" double bill I made for myself. While both about an unconventional pregnancy, these two films could not have been more different.

Where Shelley was a quiet, slow build; Antibirth was an obnoxious, trippy mess. Where Shelley was set in nature, at a remote cabin on a lake; Antibirth took place in the slums of a city, full of warehouse raves and low-budget motels.

Muted natural colours (aside from a blood red title screen) versus an overload of bright colours, loud music and ever-changing TV commercials. Simply living characters, without even electricity or running water in their home, versus relentlessly bong-hitting, drunk party girls.

Shelley tells the story of Louise and Kasper (Ellen Dorrit Petersen and Peter Christoffersen), a married couple living a quiet life. Louise desperately wants a baby, but is unable to bear children after her last failed pregnancy resulted in a hysterectomy. When their new Romanian maid Elena (Cosmina Stratan) decides to help them, her surrogacy quickly becomes very unusual.

Antibirth, meanwhile, deals with a surprise pregnancy. Lou (Natasha Lyonne, basically playing her Orange Is The New Black character but not in jail - not a complaint) wakes up from a heavy night of partying feeling decidedly worse than just her usual comedown/hangover. Her stomach starts growing at an alarming rate, she's hungry all the time, yet sick to her stomach. 

Is this just one rave, one bong hit too many? Or does the sinister local drug dealer/pimp boyfriend of her friend Sadie (Chloë Sevigny) have something to do with it?

Oh yeah, and Meg Tilly is in this, too!

The differences go as far as pacing, too. The pacing of Shelley is extremely measured, it's a very, very slow burn, and even its conclusion is quiet and still - though not without making the viewer think about what the future holds for this family, and the world at large. 

It's a film that demands your attention, not least because a fair amount of the dialogue is subtitled (languages spoken, according to IMDb: Danish, English, Norwegian, Swedish, Romanian!) but a lot of it also is non-verbal, with reactions, realisations and contemplation taking place silently. It's a sense of creeping dread, rather than a loud announcement of horror.

In contrast, Antibirth moves along pretty quickly... though not always making complete sense. Lou is a train-wreck, and you can't help but feel for her as things finally start getting explained as to just how messed up her situation is.

Its climax, as one quote on its poster suggests, is "especially fucked up!". It's pretty fucking insane and amazing. I did not see that coming!

Being so different, I don't feel forced to choose a favourite between these two films... though if I had to recommend one over the other, it would probably be Antibirth, just for being so out there and such a trip to watch. I really don't want to give anything away, but if you've seen it feel free to comment with your reaction to that ending!

Both films are streaming on Netflix at time of writing.

Let The Right One In (2008).

Beautiful and sweet. It almost feels a disservice calling it a horror film. Why should that be so? I feel like a traitor to my favourite genre, saying as much.

Yet it also shows what a great thing horror can be; that so much diversity can exist under the one name. The nastiness of Eden Lake and the innocence of this film can be bedfellows - or at least housemates.

Let The Right One In is still. Quiet. Slow. It's not that nothing happens, more a case of what does happen is calm, and measured. With simple storytelling and no histrionics, the film is riveting. The child actors are phenomenally good, giving subtle older-than-their-years performances in a film about growing up, love and survival.

Oskar is a lonely boy, regularly bullied at school. One night he meets Eli in a snowbound jungle gym. Wary of one another at first, their friendship grows over time until it blossoms tentatively into tender young love.

The only problem is that although Eli looks like a twelve year old girl, her innocent visage hides her true age, and darkness. She is a vampire.

Her "condition" is looked after initially by a helper in the form of an older gentleman. For the sake of appearances, he poses as her father. For the sake of Eli's survival, he commits murder.

In the book upon which the film is based, this man (by the name of Håkan) has paedophile tendencies, and that is why he becomes part of Eli's life; to be closer to her. This is downplayed in the adaptation; a decision I think was the right one. Not to say that his sinister intentions wouldn't have sat right, because they probably would have - sweet or not, Let The Right One In is cold and mean at times. For a sleeker narrative though, his story was expendable.

Håkan is nonetheless still portrayed as a mightily creepy fellow. Who, unable to deal with Eli finding a soulmate in Oskar (and possibly finally feeling the burden of his countless murders) disfigures himself with acid, then lets Eli drink from him.

It's a touching moment: this man who has given up years to serve her, to feed her, ultimately himself becomes a meal to her. His last act is to offer, and be taken.

Eli must then fend for herself. Oskar at first oblivious to her secret, then helplessly entwined and bewitched by it.

Moments of bloodshed in this movie come as a bit of a shock. Feeling as it does, a little highbrow (at least in relation to the normal cache of films a horror fan will watch) when this gets messy in its own restrained yet nasty way, it's genuinely startling.

Håkan's last breath.

The cinematography contributes to this too, as the carefully chosen background upon which the gore is smeared. The look of the film is cold, the colours muted; the red blood standing out against pale snow and skin. Like another movie I've reviewed, in fact.

If somehow the film doesn't appeal because of its plot, then see it just because it's so fucking pretty. Seriously. I could have capped nearly every shot to illustrate this.

I love that one in particular. It reminds me of studying graphic design and how much I used to love drawing things in two point perspective.

So carefully chosen and composed. The visuals are works of art, there's no denying it.

As much as I like hideous acts and depressing endings, horror when it is as beautiful and wonderful, heartbreaking and life-affirming as this... Well, it's a special thing indeed.

If you are late to view this like I was, rectify that immediately.