Midsommar is a 2019 horror film, written and directed by Ari Aster, that follows a group of American college students as they travel to Sweden to attend a midsummer celebration in their friend’s rural hometown. This seemingly peaceful retreat from main character Dani’s bereavement and collapsing relationship with boyfriend Christian (also on the trip), rapidly disintegrates into a surreal festival of a pagan cult, characterised by violent ceremonies and hallucinatory drugs. Perhaps best summarised by A24, the American entertainment company responsible for this film, Midsommar is “a dread-soaked cinematic fairy-tale where a world of darkness unfolds in broad daylight.”
The fairytale-like depiction of the village of Hårga, in which the film is set, is enhanced by Bobby Krlic’s original soundtrack. Defying the genre-typical sounds of a horror film, Krlic’s score paired with the outwardly serene setting serve to create an illusion of tranquillity that is quickly dispelled as the film develops. The violent and brutal images played alongside such an enchanting soundtrack introduce a nightmarish quality to the film, which only becomes more prominent throughout.
Aster noticeably utilises the eternal sunlight of Northern Swedish summer by portraying the Midsommar madness in overexposed daylight. A stereotypical horror film is reliant on darkness to provide atmosphere and apprehension, and to be the chief cause of fear in the audience. The constant brightness of Midsommar contrasts this typical use of dark lighting to imply hidden baddies and enable the characteristic jump-scare, meaning Aster allows daylight to expose the happenings of the film. The result is an overwhelmingly false sense of security, as most audience members can’t even imagine a horror film in sunlight, meaning the surreal way in which the plot unfolds is made all the more sinister.
However, don’t be fooled by the daylight, flowers, and dancing in the trailer; this film is in no way for the weak-stomached and the warning of extreme violence is absolutely deserved. The high volume of graphic gory detail is largely what qualifies Midsommar for its title as a horror film.
Despite this, Midsommar deviates from the tendencies of the typical horror film by avoiding gore for the sake of genre. It is used instead as a prop to enhance the insanity portrayed by Pawel Pogorzelski’s cinematography, and Aster’s examination of grief, betrayal, and the psychedelic horror of traditions of European paganism and old Norse legends. Pogorzelski’s genius with camera-work and visual effects allows the sober audience to experience the bad psilocybin trip alongside the characters, meaning before the horror actually sets in, the atmosphere is already unsettled and ill at ease.
Aster’s cinematic masterpiece is definitely deserving of its place within the horror category, somehow whilst abstaining from most norms of the genre. This film is, in my opinion, one of very few deliberately calculated horror films that still manages to keep the audience guessing; it doesn’t lose any unpredictability by being meticulous and intelligent.
Midsommar is truly cinematographically excellent, with fantastic writing and direction. It has to be said, nonetheless, that it is impossible to walk out of this film having fully understood it. It is chaotic and confusing in the most wonderfully horrifying way, with an incredibly disturbing and unsettling plot that I believe makes it well worth a watch – so long as you’re not too faint-hearted.