Canary Duty - Midsommar

Now when I started doing this blog, my aim with all of my Canary Duty articles was to get them done ASAP.  Since I'm not doing these from press previews (not yet; hint hint any future employers of me out there!), I am just trying to get in to the first screening I can, and get my thoughts on the film up here immediately.  That was much harder to do in this case, and I don't just mean because of how late the screenings were; I had to really second guess and reassess my impressions of this one, because like his previous film Hereditary, Ari Aster has come up with something very challenging in Midsommar.  How you respond to it will be up to you, but to really dig into the hows, whys, and whethers of this film working, I will have to hint at a few spoilers, even if I don't entirely give the game away.  So I'll put above the page break my final verdict; Midsommar is very uncomfortable film, both in terms of hinting at subject matter and in character dynamics, it's gorgeously filmed, has a solid backbone of a character arc for the lead, and truly memorable imagery.  It's far more unnerving than it is traditionally "scary", and if you are familiar with the "Folk Horror" subgenre (one very major title in that field in particular) it won't surprise you, but this is one of those films where it's more about the journey than the destination.  If the idea of having a 140 minute simulation of a bad trip is something you think you can handle, go for this.  So with all that out the way, if you don't mind me circling Spoiler City Limits, let's dig a bit deeper after the trailer.

Like Hereditary, through a horror lens we do get a good look at some genuine human drama that's also used to disturbing effect.  Specifically we get a look at issues of grief, triggering, and the failure of those close to us to help us through these.  Florence Pugh's lead Dani is our lead, and five minutes in she undergoes a truly horrific tragedy (which I'd describe as the most traditionally "scary" scene of the film), leaving her only with her boyfriend Christian in her life.  Thing is, Christian is a screw-up who already didn't want to be in the relationship, and basically emotionally manipulates her into not asking him for the help she clearly needs from someone.  So whilst the overall plotline of Midsommar might be familiar fare (I'll get to that in a moment), it's seeing how this reflects and/or in a way helps her heal that is where the story is at its most interesting.  She has a fascinating character arc in here, with a punchline that might have been played up to a point of melodrama elsewhere, but given the journey she goes on we understand how she comes to make a crucial choice perfectly.

I've focused on that character material first to emphasise how much this has going on under the hood, as the basic storyline doesn't really have any major surprises if you've ever seen The Wicker Man or any similar ilk.  Now I've seen that there is an interview with Ari Aster where he said he deliberately avoided any direct similarities with that film.  Well sorry Mr. Aster but mission failed there.  Obviously this isn't just that film with the serial numbers filed off, but the thing is that The Wicker Man basically codified most of the subgenre; like Halloween, it wasn't the first of it's kind, but it set the gold standard for what entries should be, and it's shadow looms long.  That being said, I don't think that seeing where this will end up is a deal breaker; in fact, that might be kind of the point.  The film actually opens with a visual that if you look carefully hints at the whole storyline, and much is made of the concept of cycles in the film; these things have happened before, and they will happen again.  So even if it has its similarities to TWM, I'd take it as a remake rather than the Nicholas Cage remake (although there's a part of Midsommar's climax that if I didn't know better I'd swear was a nod to that version!).

Whilst the story is familiar fare, visually it's in a league of its own.  It takes a lot of skill to make bright sunshine feel threatening, and it's pulled off to an aplomb here. The Swedish setting is used very well, especially in the use of very authentic feeling folk art and architecture; it all adds to a feeling of things being "off" in ways that are hard to put into words.  There are long scenes of characters in drugged states (which incidentally makes some dumb decisions by some of them a lot easier to buy), and these are done superbly. Wisely, they aren't traditionally "psychedelic" scenes, they feel far more authentic in just showing a world in a state of flux and not behaving as it should, and the fact the effect is just happening with no fanfare makes it more unnerving.  Though there are some neat subliminal scares in these segments; there's one that almost made me jump out of my seat when I spotted it.  Now these do make for a microcosm of the whole film; it feels like a bad trip in a way that I haven't felt since Chris Morris' Jam (and indeed there are moments of humour that wouldn't be out of place in there!).  This is the aspect, even more than some of the shocking gore moments, that will get audiences talking.

If you go into Midsommar expecting a traditional horror film, you obviously didn't see Hereditary or know your folk horror.  It's something rather different in style and story purpose (I refuse point blank to use the term "post horror"), and it makes for deeply uncomfortable viewing.  It won't surprise you, although it makes you think at points that it is going to (there are hints of a completely different direction it could have gone in that I wouldn't mind seeing a film actually about one day); but that's not the ultimate point, it's all about painful transitions through the cycles in our lives.  It may be a bit overlong at 140 minutes, but it's a journey well worth the time.  If you don't mind being made uneasy in ways that you may find hard to put into words, do give this a go.