«Midsommar, a horror festival

With MidsommarWith «Midsommar», director Ari Aster reinvents the genre's codes by setting his horror film under the Swedish midsummer sun. Color, drugs and Nordic songs are the order of the day for this entry into a Swedish cult.

Dani is traumatized by the death of her parents and sister. Lonely, in need of attention and solutions to her problems, she lets herself be tempted by a trip to Sweden with some friends. Among them, her boyfriend, who isn't exactly a role model. The destination? Some kind of long festival with costumes and theatrical ceremonies, announced the one of the gang who usually goes to this small Nordic community. When they arrive, they discover an idyllic setting and friendly, smiling people, albeit strangely dressed in white robes.

This cinema is out of print: the horror film. So is the context: a cult. And yet, the resulting film has all the makings of a successful novelty. Placing fear in a radiant setting is a stroke of genius. The whole film is a paradox: wide open spaces and yet confinement; apparent humanity and yet crass cruelty inside; light and color and yet darkness and pain. The idea of Ari Aster, who arrives with his second feature film after’excellent Heredity which we covered at NIFFF, The artistic treatment is an absolute success.

An aesthetic success

Midsommar is a polished film from the very first frame. Even before the opening credits, during this mysterious introduction to the main character, we understand that we're about to witness a prodigious aesthetic of cinema. Colors are contrasting - blue-red - or complementary - green-red - offering a colorful cocktail to be savored throughout. Sun, flowers and trees create an atmosphere of artificial paradise, symbolic of both the cult and the drug, both influencing each other and culminating in absolute horror.

The music is not to be outdone: a clever contrast is created between the soundtrack's rare moments of jerky strings and the recorder melodies and community chants in the background. The result is striking, in keeping with the film's talented use of shots. With a slowness to make grumbling Le Parisien but rave about all the other publications, Midsommar includes a whole series of still shots, in which the camera sometimes even supplants the scene's main protagonist. One shot in particular satisfied an old cinematic desire that had remained unsatisfied, that of a slow reversal of the camera. The dual nature of the human being was surely in the symbol.

A lack of realism

There are a few reservations, however. And they all concern content rather than form. Specifically, the scenario's lack of realism. Midsommar features silly, shy characters who would have made me love the film even more if they'd behaved more rationally. You might retort that they're American students, but I'd like to think that not all of them are so ingenuous. The first natural reflex of a human being who realizes that he or she has entered a viper's nest is to want to get out. However, a minority of teenagers try to get out, even though the majority realize that nothing is going right.

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So, did the film's writers have to zap Dani's entire family to make her vulnerable and impressionable? Certainly not. Visit too much is also present in the overkill of the situation, on two occasions in particular: the scene of a human sacrifice and that of a crazy sexual rite. The viewer's unease becomes weariness as the worst kills the bad. Finally, in two hours and twenty minutes of film, we have no time to see any real indoctrination of the brains of our young acolytes. The distress of the victims' inaction comes far too quickly, in a film that is nonetheless very long. But the paradox, as we said, lies at the heart of this film. Order of the Solar Temple with Swedish mushroom sauce. A must-see.

Write to the author: jonas.follonier@leregardlibre.com

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