A Review of Midsommar (2019)
I wrote this review of Midsommar during the morning of 9 December 2019. I had become aware of the film during the summer of 2019 but never had the opportunity to watch it. I was very pleased when Amazon Prime offered it for viewing. The review developed in my mind that night while sleeping and was in nearly complete form when I rose from bed the following morning.
*********
I attempt to stay current with depictions of traditional Nordic European culture in popular and mainstream media. When I saw the trailer for Midsommar, a new film directed by Ari Aster and starring the up and coming Florence Pugh, I made a mental note to check it out. The trailer piqued my curiosity by revealing a group of twenty-something Americans vacationing in Sweden and visiting natives who are planning an elaborate celebration of the Midsummer holiday. Images included Swedes dressed in white gowns adorned with runes with bouquets of flowers in their hair. It was clear to me from the start that this lovely tribe held some dark secrets and our American tourists were likely to meet a Wicker Man-finish.
This highly acclaimed film is really one part cheesy horror shocker and one part cult classic wannabe. With that said, I didn’t find the shocks very shocking or the horror very horrifying. The film certainly had the offbeat campiness we might expect of a cult classic, but it is too early to know if audiences will feel the same.
Following a tragedy, Dani (Florence Pugh), accompanies a small group of college graduate school students to Sweden for a lengthy vacation. When our little band arrives at their destination, their Swedish friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) offers them all a batch of psychedelic mushrooms. Hallucinations develop while we meet several young members of what appears to be a hippie-commune. As the balance of the community is introduced, we begin to notice runes on people’s attire, painted on buildings, and carved into standing-stones. Josh, the one African-American character (played by William Jackson Harper) is seeking to complete his doctoral thesis in European Midsummer traditions. Josh demonstrating his vast knowledge asks, “Isn’t that the Younger Futhark?” Oddly enough, he is told “No” that the carvings are from the Elder Futhark.
As someone who has studied the runes, I found myself paying special attention to each rune that appeared. I styled myself a modern-day Sherlock Holmes of runology expecting to discover clues as to what was to happen based on a clever use of runes and their meanings. While I was thrilled to see the beautiful use of runes to decorate buildings and clothing, the meanings were left as obscure to audiences as I suspect they were to the filmmakers themselves. While the action takes place in Sweden, we see a mix of runes from the Elder, Younger, and even significant use of the Anglo-Frisian Futhorc. A banquet table is arranged to form the OTHALA (ODAL) rune, but it is never mentioned or explained to the audience. DAGAZ appears many times, but is always painted sideways—like an hourglass—also with no explanation. At one point, a female character places a runestave under the bed of one of the leads, Christian (played by Jack Reynor). When PhD student Josh notices and inquires with the “elders” at to it’s meaning, he is told that it means “love” –not a definition that we find in any of the traditional runic systems.
Clearly our group of American travelers, who are joined by two Indians from London who are also vacationing at this strange locale, have found a pagan-cult in a remote part of Sweden. The pagan elements are fairly obscured however. There is no mention of the Norse gods for example. Some Nordic numerology is included especially around the significance of the number “nine.” We are told oddly that this Midsummer celebration is a special one that occurs every 90 years—a ridiculously long duration that fails to square with other plot elements. The rituals that are performed certainly have stereotypical pagan elements to them—but even when the commune’s “holy scriptures” are read, we learn that they are of modern origin—having been interpreted by the priests of the community from the village shaman—a young horribly disfigured man who apparently has gained his otherworldly talents due to inbreeding—a necessary requirement for such abilities, or so we are told.
Another key symbol in the film is a large flower-adorned Maypole. For those familiar with the folk-horror genre, it comes as no surprise when Dani is named the May Queen (think The Wicker Tree). Being named May Queen apparently results from having been the Maypole dance-a-thon winner. Rather than performing any known tradition of Maypole dancing, we are told that the women who dance around the Maypole must essentially dance until they drop. Since the world record for dancing non-stop is over 100 hours, one is taken by the weakness of the premise.
Watching Midsommar certainly stirs memories of Robin Hardy’s classic 1973 The Wicker Man. Hardy manages to build suspense before revealing the shock of the film’s finale. Oddly Midsommar fails in this regard, revealing fairly early on that things are amiss in our quaint folk community. While the Indian couple from London is aghast at what’s going on, our American scholars subjectivize the brutal rituals in an impersonal way—perhaps a tweak, if not critique, of American academia. Similarly the erotic elements of Midsommar fall short of the sensual flirtation of Britt Ekland in The Wicker Man or even ribald sexuality of its 2011 sequel The Wicker Tree. Midsommar includes scenes of explicit sexual ritual, but without the fantasy or allure of such depictions in films including Stanley Kubrick’s provocative Eyes Wide Shut.
I enjoyed this movie for its scenery, costumes, and pagan-imagery. Perhaps an uninitiated audience of young-film goers might be shocked by the activities of this pagan cult in northern Sweden. For me, there were few surprises—perhaps with the exception of the final song. As the credits rolled, we were treated to the Walker Brothers singing “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore.” Perhaps this tilt-of-the-hat to Scott Walker, a forerunner and hero of the Neofolk music scene might help secure Midsommar as a cult-classic. For that final determination, only time will tell.
Midsommar is a 2019 film directed by Ari Aster. Folk Horror. Rated R. 2h 20m.
Copyright © 2019 by Donald van den Andel
*********
I attempt to stay current with depictions of traditional Nordic European culture in popular and mainstream media. When I saw the trailer for Midsommar, a new film directed by Ari Aster and starring the up and coming Florence Pugh, I made a mental note to check it out. The trailer piqued my curiosity by revealing a group of twenty-something Americans vacationing in Sweden and visiting natives who are planning an elaborate celebration of the Midsummer holiday. Images included Swedes dressed in white gowns adorned with runes with bouquets of flowers in their hair. It was clear to me from the start that this lovely tribe held some dark secrets and our American tourists were likely to meet a Wicker Man-finish.
This highly acclaimed film is really one part cheesy horror shocker and one part cult classic wannabe. With that said, I didn’t find the shocks very shocking or the horror very horrifying. The film certainly had the offbeat campiness we might expect of a cult classic, but it is too early to know if audiences will feel the same.
Following a tragedy, Dani (Florence Pugh), accompanies a small group of college graduate school students to Sweden for a lengthy vacation. When our little band arrives at their destination, their Swedish friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) offers them all a batch of psychedelic mushrooms. Hallucinations develop while we meet several young members of what appears to be a hippie-commune. As the balance of the community is introduced, we begin to notice runes on people’s attire, painted on buildings, and carved into standing-stones. Josh, the one African-American character (played by William Jackson Harper) is seeking to complete his doctoral thesis in European Midsummer traditions. Josh demonstrating his vast knowledge asks, “Isn’t that the Younger Futhark?” Oddly enough, he is told “No” that the carvings are from the Elder Futhark.
As someone who has studied the runes, I found myself paying special attention to each rune that appeared. I styled myself a modern-day Sherlock Holmes of runology expecting to discover clues as to what was to happen based on a clever use of runes and their meanings. While I was thrilled to see the beautiful use of runes to decorate buildings and clothing, the meanings were left as obscure to audiences as I suspect they were to the filmmakers themselves. While the action takes place in Sweden, we see a mix of runes from the Elder, Younger, and even significant use of the Anglo-Frisian Futhorc. A banquet table is arranged to form the OTHALA (ODAL) rune, but it is never mentioned or explained to the audience. DAGAZ appears many times, but is always painted sideways—like an hourglass—also with no explanation. At one point, a female character places a runestave under the bed of one of the leads, Christian (played by Jack Reynor). When PhD student Josh notices and inquires with the “elders” at to it’s meaning, he is told that it means “love” –not a definition that we find in any of the traditional runic systems.
Clearly our group of American travelers, who are joined by two Indians from London who are also vacationing at this strange locale, have found a pagan-cult in a remote part of Sweden. The pagan elements are fairly obscured however. There is no mention of the Norse gods for example. Some Nordic numerology is included especially around the significance of the number “nine.” We are told oddly that this Midsummer celebration is a special one that occurs every 90 years—a ridiculously long duration that fails to square with other plot elements. The rituals that are performed certainly have stereotypical pagan elements to them—but even when the commune’s “holy scriptures” are read, we learn that they are of modern origin—having been interpreted by the priests of the community from the village shaman—a young horribly disfigured man who apparently has gained his otherworldly talents due to inbreeding—a necessary requirement for such abilities, or so we are told.
Another key symbol in the film is a large flower-adorned Maypole. For those familiar with the folk-horror genre, it comes as no surprise when Dani is named the May Queen (think The Wicker Tree). Being named May Queen apparently results from having been the Maypole dance-a-thon winner. Rather than performing any known tradition of Maypole dancing, we are told that the women who dance around the Maypole must essentially dance until they drop. Since the world record for dancing non-stop is over 100 hours, one is taken by the weakness of the premise.
Watching Midsommar certainly stirs memories of Robin Hardy’s classic 1973 The Wicker Man. Hardy manages to build suspense before revealing the shock of the film’s finale. Oddly Midsommar fails in this regard, revealing fairly early on that things are amiss in our quaint folk community. While the Indian couple from London is aghast at what’s going on, our American scholars subjectivize the brutal rituals in an impersonal way—perhaps a tweak, if not critique, of American academia. Similarly the erotic elements of Midsommar fall short of the sensual flirtation of Britt Ekland in The Wicker Man or even ribald sexuality of its 2011 sequel The Wicker Tree. Midsommar includes scenes of explicit sexual ritual, but without the fantasy or allure of such depictions in films including Stanley Kubrick’s provocative Eyes Wide Shut.
I enjoyed this movie for its scenery, costumes, and pagan-imagery. Perhaps an uninitiated audience of young-film goers might be shocked by the activities of this pagan cult in northern Sweden. For me, there were few surprises—perhaps with the exception of the final song. As the credits rolled, we were treated to the Walker Brothers singing “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore.” Perhaps this tilt-of-the-hat to Scott Walker, a forerunner and hero of the Neofolk music scene might help secure Midsommar as a cult-classic. For that final determination, only time will tell.
Midsommar is a 2019 film directed by Ari Aster. Folk Horror. Rated R. 2h 20m.
Copyright © 2019 by Donald van den Andel
.jpg)
Comments
Post a Comment