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.

Cherry Tree Lane (2010)

Not NW10...

This is an English movie, even if one variation of the artwork clearly shows an American-style house and a white picket fence. It's actually set in North West London, and was written and directed by Paul Andrew Williams (another of his horror outings was darkly comic The Cottage).

That's... better...?

Cherry Tree Lane reminded me of both Funny Games and Eden Lake, and though it's neither as cerebral as the former nor as devastating as the latter, it still manages to be pretty riveting and successfully create tension with "only" a mostly one-room setting and a lot of dialogue. 

It never truly reaches heights of being scary (or at least, it didn't for me) but home invasion is always going to be unsettling... and here the invaders are not dramatic, masked, silent ghouls of unknown motive; they are loud kids with bad attitudes, little empathy, and when it comes to leader Rian (Jumayn Hunter, who actually starred in Eden Lake also) a real streak of cruelty.

The plot couldn't get much simpler; married couple Christine and Mike (Rachael Blake and Tom Butcher) settle down for an evening in - if I had one complaint, it was that the setting up of their dislike for one another was done so painstakingly, we were led to believe something would happen later to explain this, but it doesn't - and while they're eating dinner, a group of teens ring the doorbell and push their way into the house, taking the pair hostage. They say they want to speak to Sebastian, Christine and Mike's son. He's due home within the hour and they're going to wait. They assault Mike to subdue him and tie both up with gaffer tape.

What follows is a slow, stressful climb in unease as time passes, tempers fray and cruelties heighten. Much is done with off-screen violence, using the classic "we'll just have you hear what's happening and imagining far worse than we could ever show/afford to show" to great effect. Screaming and thumping reverberate through the house on a couple of occasions, and it makes up the nastier moments of the film as both the audience and other characters grimace and think about what's happening.

Even though this is a white middle-class couple up against working class kids, it never particularly feels like A Statement On Class. Honestly it feels more straightforward than that. It feels real in the sense that you can imagine Sebastian (whom we wait the entire runtime to see and barely catch a real glimpse of, a touch that I liked) is a mouthy little shit who acts like he's a big deal and got caught saying the wrong thing about the wrong person. I have known people like this - I think we all have. 

As nasty as Cherry Tree Lane gets, it never feels over the top. There are also some stand-out singular moments and shot compositions; watching one of the gang browse the DVD shelf in slow motion, tossing them aside, and the appearance of Christine in the foreground towards the end.

This one was a bit of a grower, but ultimately it left me feeling satisfied that I'd checked it out. I've been feeling pretty uninspired by horror movies of late... or locked into a perpetual scroll of streaming services through fear of wasting time on something shitty. There's so much shit out there! This piqued my interest - the clincher being it runs less than 90mins - and I'm glad it did. Oh, and anyone remember UNKLE? They did the music!

Cherry Tree Lane is currently streaming on Tubi! Honestly, Tubi is making me re-evaluate some life choices. It's free, their catalogue is MASSIVE and even if you have to wade through some crap, they have gems hidden in there too. 

I'd recommend giving this a spin if you want a short, sharp, English take on home invasion.*

*I feel I ought to say, however, CW: sexual assault. It's handled without exploitation, or lingering on the abuse like many movies tend to, but heads up that it happens here. 

Brightburn (2019)

Brightburn is clunky with exposition, light on character development, and even if jump scares catch me out occasionally, they still make me roll my eyes... but this movie is still hugely fun and worth your time.

While never reaching heights of what I'd call a "great" horror movie, it has enough wallop where it counts; notably with its gore and willingness to go further than you're probably expecting it to.

The Ritual (2017)

I fancied watching this again recently, and I'm really glad I did. Spoilers incoming!

Based on a novel by Adam Nevill, directed by David Bruckner (who co-wrote and directed Amateur Night in V/H/S and The Accident in Southbound) this Netflix movie takes us deep into dark Swedish forests with a group of friends.

Dom, Luke, Phil and Hutch.

Tension exists between these men, as we find out that Luke (Rafe Spall) carries a heavy burden of guilt for not stepping in during a violent attack which opens the film. The knowledge they all have of Luke essentially standing by as their friend Robert (Paul Reid) was killed hangs heavily over the beginning of their trip. We see Luke wake from a nightmare about the murder, and throughout our time with him images ripple through his reality of the trauma from that night.

These scenes are some of my favourites, as imagination and reality/fabricated building interior and forest mesh so effortlessly and organically together. It's incredibly impressive and extremely disconcerting. It reads very much like something out of a dream, where details and settings bleed together in a singular landscape.

On the night Rob died the lads were trying to decide where to go on holiday together, and now, six months later they find themselves hiking as a tribute to him (as he'd originally suggested it). Hutch (Robert James-Collier) is clearly the most comfortable in the outdoors, with the others joining through a sense of sad duty. These are middle-class affluent types, paying £200 for their hiking boots but neglecting to break them in before the trip. They are kind of out of their depth before they even set foot in the forest.

The turning point of events comes after Dom (Sam Troughton) gets hurt, and they make the decision to take a short-cut back to their lodge. Rather than staying out in the open, they realise with reluctance that entering the dense forest is the quickest way back.

❝What's up? Are you scared of the woods?❞

It's dark, damp, and visibility is low through the arrow-straight trees. Luke repeatedly thinks he sees a glimpse of something moving in the distance and tensions increase as pain and exhaustion take hold. Everything changes after their first night in the forest. Breaking into an abandoned cabin during a storm, they wake the following morning, nerves shredded from terrifying nightmares and sleepwalking. 

There is a palpable feeling of a dark presence infiltrating their minds as they slept, pushing its way into their deepest fears. The most alarming awakening is from Phil (Arsher Ali) who is found naked in a "praying" position in front of a terrifying headless totem.

No one, especially Phil, is ever the same after that night. Arsher Ali doesn't have an awful lot to do aside from this, unfortunately, but he gives a haunting performance as someone who can't process or escape the fear of his ordeal. Phil is shell-shocked and violated.

Similar to the "lost in the woods" idea, the stripping back of anything our characters have -  in this case: possessions, unity, sanity - is not a unique narrative approach, but in capable hands, it's so effective. The lads start with the latest gear, and end with nothing, having lost tents, party members, and a full grip on what the fuck is even going on. With a steady hand, The Ritual peels back to the terrified primal core of these characters.

The creature reveal is what solidifies the success of this movie for me. This beast is a "Jötunn", an ancient god worshiped by villagers and offered sacrifices of unsuspecting visitors to the area (their possessions dot the landscape, nature claiming them in varying degrees). In turn, the locals are granted unnaturally long lives. The things we do for eternity, eh? I did find it interesting that none of the villagers seem particularly happy, however. Their lot appears more duty and fear-fueled than actively wanting to be eternally stuck in this existence.

The design of the Jötunn is stunning, even in full view it's difficult to comprehend as it seems compromised of human and beast body parts, as well as having aspects of the forest, too. It feels profane in a way that both captivates and repels.

As Luke attempts to escape his fate of being trapped forever, this showstopping moment is captured:

If he had lost his mind then and there, who could have blamed him?

As the third act draws to a close, the warm tones of a burning village give way to a landscape bathed in dawn light. In the far distance we see a car on a road. Luke is returning to civilisation and leaving old gods behind. At least physically. He was chosen because his "pain was great" - is his pain gone, by the end? I doubt it. If anything it's deeper, along with his guilt. His primal scream at the creature stuck at its forest's edge certainly hints at a lifetime of nightmares to come. 

This movie would pair well with Blair Witch for a night's viewing, as I think they'd complement one another for a "we're lost in the woods and we're f*cked!" double bill. Tents and trees by torchlight; distant, gigantic sounds you can't identify... That kind of fear pre-dates almost everything, it's woven into our lizard brains.

The Ritual is streaming on Netflix now. I appreciated the abrupt, not-necessarily-sad but definitely not happy ending (see also: Calibre). Beautiful landscapes, old gods and flawed humans - what's not to love? Very tempted to pick up the book and see how the two compare.