Good for Her: Midsommar
Jack Reynor and Florence Pugh learn about new traditions in Midsommar.
Dani’s got 99 problems and a bear ain’t one.
NOTE: Good for Her movie reviews contain a spoiler section. If you want to skip it, don’t read the section labeled Good for Her.
What’s Midsommar About?
Dani and Christian (Florence Pugh and Jack Reynor) are a couple teetering on the brink. Christian is looking for a way to dump Dani, but waffling because he has nothing better lined up. Dani is desperate to cling to Christian because her worth is tied up in having a functional relationship.
When Dani’s entire family is wiped out in a horrific murder-suicide, Christian tables his breakup plans so he doesn’t look like a bad guy. Instead, he tiptoes around Dani, who is going through a deep depression, doing his best to slowly extract himself from the relationship without having to be the one to break up.
This leads Christian to passive-aggressively invite Dani on a trip to Sweden, where one of his friends has invited him and the rest of his anthropology buddies to experience an authentic Midsommar festival with the Hårga people. To Christian’s surprise, and his buddies’ dismay, Dani agrees to go, meaning the world’s worst relationship is now going international.
But as Dani and Christian settle into the Midsommar festivities, they both realize their relationship might not be the most sinister thing in the village. As the Hårga rituals get more extreme, Dani realizes something is definitely wrong. Christian can only see opportunity — if he’s able to write a paper on these violent rituals.
Will their relationship survive Midsommar? Will they?
What Makes Midsommar Good?
Director Ari Aster set out to make a breakup movie. What he created, however, is more like a mashup of The Wicker Man and An Unmarried Woman. Unlike his first feature, Hereditary, Midsommar’s horror might come from how deceptively uplifting the movie is. It’s both a movie that is deeply troubling and a feel-good flick for anyone who’s ever had to deal with a significant other that treats you like a burden and expects you to apologize for it.
While this is starting to sound like a Nora Ephron movie (and there is a lovely kitchen scene, so fair enough), there’s plenty of creeping dread and chills in Midsommar. The movie is an exercise in cognitive dissonance. The bright Swedish setting, cheery embroidered costumes, and abundant flowers make the film feel light and hopeful. Which is why things like cult suicide and murder seem so jarring. It’s easy to make gore creepy at night, but in the middle of a bright wildflower field with people singing?
That sort of dissonance is echoed throughout the film. Dani recognizes how odd the cult is. She’s horrified at the ritual suicide. But as the film goes on and Christian’s treatment of her gets worse, she starts to see the Hårga in a different light. They remember her birthday. They don’t recoil when she’s emotional. In fact, when she falls to the floor hysterically weeping, they fall with her, empathizing with her pain and helping her work through it. It’s a heady feeling, finally being treated as something of value.
And that might be the most insidious trick Aster plays in the film. At first, the audience is worried about Dani and suspicious of the Hårga. But as the film evolves, joining the Hårga seems like the sane choice. Sure, there’s a bit of murder, but at least they don’t treat you like garbage. In a way, it’s Aster breaking down just why cults are so alluring, especially to people who’ve been mistreated.
Who doesn’t want to feel held?
The film is also bolstered by a brilliant performance from Pugh. Aster has a real knack for directing women, and I would argue that both Collette in Hereditary and Pugh in Midsommar do some of their finest work. Pugh in particular has to swing between paroxysms of grief, terror at being abandoned, and aching vulnerability. Dani is a woman in freefall, and it’s easy to see why she’d clutch the first stable hand offered to her.
Aster plays with the cinematography to layer Dani’s trauma into her decision-making. Cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski works images of her dead family into the swaying of the trees. Each brightly lit moment offers some cheery menace that the characters ignore. Why is there a bear in a box? Did anyone bother to look at the carvings in the cabin?
The result is a film that is unsettling because it’s so inviting. It’s easy to like the Hårga. It’s easy to explain away violence as something that’s a byproduct of tradition. It’s very easy to ignore that bear in the cage…
Good for Her Moment
After winning the title of May Queen, Dani is revered by the Hårga and welcomed into their community. She’s given the option to choose between sacrificing a member of the Hårga or her boyfriend. Dani, finding the validation in the community that she never found in her relationship, chooses to sacrifice her boyfriend. She grieves the loss of the relationship she fought so hard to maintain, but as flames engulf him, she begins to smile.
Now look, I know the “happy ending” here is that Dani joins a cult and participates in murder, but there’s a reason so many women find Midsommar to be a comfort watch instead of a horror movie. The idea of accepting a terrible partner because something is better than nothing is one that can almost be universal. Especially in a society where women are told their worth is partly tied to their relationship status, it’s easy to see how Dani would cling to an awful relationship rather than be alone in her grief. While I doubt Aster is suggesting every woman who’s ever felt diminished or gaslit in a relationship join a Swedish murder cult, there is a level of catharsis in watching Dani reclaim her power in such a visceral way.
Verdict
A stunning film that’s both viscerally violent and oddly satisfying, Midsommar is almost empowerment horror. Watch it at your next girls’ night, just don’t serve Flavor Aid.
Midsommar is rated R and available via Showtime.
