Ari Aster’s sophomore effort solidifies that he’s an immensely talented director. Midsommar deals heavily in personal trauma and familial madness but juxtaposes wrenching tragedy and bleakness against a sunlit backdrop of vibrant and verdant landscapes. It is rare to see a daylight horror film, rarer the beauty and color extracted from the glorious scandanavian setting. The level of detail committed is astonishing, with secrets and esoteric embroidery permeating every frame. There is a methodical build, but the film never goes for cheap scares, instead utilizing tragedy, dread and inevitability for the hapless characters. These figures, while oblivious and unlikable, are still written relatably and effectively realized, with natural dialogue and intelligible motives. There is an overcurrent of amazingly well depicted psychedelic surrealism brilliantly aligning with each character’s confusion and disjointed perspective.There is no real mystery or surprise within, the film telegraphs every element through framing and murals depicting events before transpiring. While some might decry the slow build and lavish devotion to minor ritual and moments, the payoff delivers. On the whole, a film that excels not merely at being a pagan horror movie, but as an intimate portrayal of relationships gone toxic and sour.
Midsommar