Midsommar (2019)

At the film's outset, we are greeted with a mural which effectively charts our protagonist's journey; this is not just effective storytelling, but also builds upon the film's lore. The following sequence is as effective as it is exploitative. The imagery is extremely grim and perhaps a little excessive in places. But it sets an appropriate mood and atmosphere for the events that follow in Midsommar.

The dynamic between Florence Pugh's Dani and Jack Reynor's Christian is established with immediacy; the film even goes so far as to use mirrors to keep all subjects in frame during moments of tension relating to Dani, Christian and his friends. Dani is needy, owing to a complicated family life. Christian is a typical detached college student, exasperated with Dani's vast emotional world. His activities seem aimless; he is unfocused on his thesis and reports to Dani early in the film that he and his friends "just smoked some resin" (slang for the residue left behind by marijuana combustion; a dirty way to get high).

The chasm between them only widens. Christian is constantly underhanded, both when he hides the trip to Sweden from Dani, and when he announces his intentions to hijack his friend's thesis subject. Meanwhile, Dani pushes for more engagement from Christian, but backs down as she is afraid he will leave her and she will be alone.

Christian's friend group worsens matters. They constantly telegraph awkwardness and hostility directed at Dani. They are encouraged in this behaviour by Christian's constant complaining about her. This is felt more acutely as the group travels to Hårga.

As a visual accompanying the change in norms, we see an aerial shot of the car that arcs above it until we are looking at the car upside down. There are other distinct visual flourishes at Hårga. Noticeable throughout the film are the carefully painted pieces of artwork on the walls; they are highly intricate and varied, which likely created significant production demand. There is also a visual rhythm to certain sequences, such as when the Hårgans pick up their silverware one after another, or when the children are seen doing a strange exercise involving staggered walking and running.

The pageantry at the end is strange and surreal. Accompanying it is a particularly deranged display of sisterhood as the women of Hårga scream and cry, sharing in Dani's anguish. Together, these elements enrich the film's mythos, but more importantly, they mark a crucial milestone in Dani’s journey as she prepares to let Christian go.

The choice of the bear at the end is appropriate. Christian, rather than an emotionally engaging and loving boyfriend, acted more as an inanimate object of comfort to Dani; a teddy bear. He was only there because he was afraid to leave; he was just something to hold in the meanwhile.

The ending has a compelling twofold nature. In the most literal sense, Dani has been inducted into a death cult which comes complete with a socially obligated suicide pact; this is objectively horrifying. But, for Dani, the film ends on an emotional high note as she smiles at the sight of her baggage burning. The contradiction is compelling.

Showing darkness in the naked light of day, the film fulfills the promise of its opening image and describes the Hårgan life cycle from beginning to end. Dani’s grief may be vast; Christian’s neglect may be monumental. But Midsommar comes offering reassurance: there is a season for all things. And all seasons come to an end.