Much like talented writer-director Ari Aster's harrowing tale, Hereditary, Midsommar explores, perhaps even to a greater extent, the lingering effects of grief by offering an emotionally distressing window into the gut-wrenching realities of dysfunctional relationships.
At times, Midsommar hits alarmingly close to home and makes for profoundly uncomfortable viewing. Not necessarily due to traditional scares, but because its underlying themes strike such a sensitive nerve inside us.
After all, in one way or another, wev'e all felt the throbbing heartache of a spiraling romance petering out, despite desperate efforts to rekindle the flame and keep the fire burning.
And it's a harrowingly painful experience.
According to the film's official production notes, Aster would use the "breakup movie" concept as the foundational basis to frame his ambitiously cinematic folklorish tale.
“I got excited about fitting the ‘breakup movie’ into a new setting, putting an operatic spin on the rote sort of cathartic ending we’ve seen in those movies before—you know, where the jilted protagonist burns the box containing all the items she collected over the course of the relationship she’s finally liberated herself from," Aster explained.
So deep down, Midsommar seemingly tells an ultimately liberating tale that takes us through the traumatic process of separation and its acceptance, in a psychological sense, via a familiarly painful step-by-step dissection.
It's a story that, by nature, seems to have substance in Aster's past. But, just as Hereditary is essentially a family drama dressed in horror clothing, Midsommar too delves into the psychological turmoil brought about by relationships, charting their harrowing downfall in disquieting stages.
A Fairy-tale Setting
Equally powerful is the film's sense of grandiose scale and mesmerizing aesthetic. In making Midsommar, Aster and his creative unit would cultivate, from scratch, an inspired new world adorned with its own written history, fascinating culture, deep-rooted traditions, and imaginative mythology.
In many ways, Midsommar is reminiscent of The Wicker Man and its visceral pagan-like appropriations and medieval dalliances with the occult.
Aster's hugely ambitious undertaking would require the expert help of production designer Henrik Svensson, who had a significant hand in building the beautifully realized Swedish village.
Through this resplendent fairy-tale aesthetic, Aster could illustrate Dani's heart-breaking journey, which, from beginning to end, would chart the chilling course of emotionally neglected to problematically empowered.
Aster is a uniquely visionary filmmaker who strives to break conventional horror boundaries by exploring real-world traumas that are often the most vividly harrowing form of horror.
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