Midsommar

Horror traditionally unfolds in the dark, exploiting our most primal, lizard-brain fears: What we can’t see can – and often does – kill us (it did where our first, bipedal ancestors were concerned), but horror can happen anywhere, not just in the dark. It can happen in a calm, quiet, idyllic settings, like a suburban or rural home. It can happen also under the glaring, never-ending glare of the midnight sun, as perpetually grinning, muslin-clad, pagan cultists invite you and yours to participate in their unique celebration of the summer solstice. And if you’re the typical “ugly American,” entitled, white (or white-adjacent), and privileged, you won’t live to see the end of summer. Part homage to the folk-horror of The Wicker Man, the rural terror of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the Americans abroad sub-genre typified by Hostel, and part relationship melodrama, Ari Aster’s (Hereditary) second film, Midsommar, confirms his status as a one-of-a-kind generational talent. (more…)

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