A changing of seasons
For me that feeling of fall begins with the shortening of days, followed by the cooling weather. I’m pulled into coziness. I add more layers to the bed: a thick blanket and eventually exchange the summer quilt for the winter duvet. Ceiling fans are turned off, windows closed inch by inch, and heat turned on. I wear socks again to work and to bed. I wear my favorite fuzzy pair and it is one of the moments I relish most in this seasonal transition.
I am watching a lot of movies to pass the time. Over the last couple weeks I’ve watched Midsommar, Psycho, The Birds, and every movie from the Scream franchise (such a fun throwback). I have been especially captivated by Midsommar. There are many movies that use trauma-driven plots, although none to such nuanced and exacting realism and impact as Midsommar. I experienced a range of uncomfortable and disquieting emotions, not unlike what I experience in my work as a trauma therapist. The film felt familiar. It captured the incredible complexity of the presentations of trauma at the individual level and how that interacts with a community built on trauma and darkness.
Captivated by MidsommarI missed Midsommar when it first came out in 2019. It is directed by Ari Aster who directed Hereditary, which is next on my list to watch. After watching Midsommar on HBO Max, I then watched a stunning 7-hour film analysis of it on YouTube. The analysis indisputably showed how the artistry of the film and its psychological narratives are inseparable.
Midsommar opens on a frigid winter cityscape. Dimness and remoteness characterize the indoor scenes as the protagonist’s life is shattered in the first ten minutes. The film quickly jumps seasons to summer and a cast of characters traveling to Sweden. The brightness and color of the shots are filtered, rendering surreal the sky and open landscape. That sense of remoteness persists as they make their way to an isolated community. The midnight sun of summertime adds to the surreal quality.
I was enthralled by the psychological journey of the protagonist, Dani, played by Florence Pugh. She suffers the horrific loss of her family in the bitter winter and is in a dissociated haze in the many months that follow. Her partner is a dud, a non-committal guy indifferent to the traumatic emotional wounding she has experienced. He is half out of the relationship. When they arrive to the commune of the Hårga, the threads of Dani’s trauma and grief become intertwined with the sinister dynamics of the cult.
The film exquisitely grasps the elements of trauma. Dani is intensely wounded and vulnerable. Her emotional dependence on the middling boyfriend is painful to witness. The indifference of her friends (if you could call them that) towards her well-being is mirrored by the cult’s. There is trauma reenactment in the bystander effect as no one intervenes — no one has ever properly intervened in Dani’s life. However, to be in the lair of the cult is to be in a house of mirrors. Their alternating indifference and predation are distorted in the reflective surface and present as compassionate community and emotional holding. There is a vivid scene where Dani’s grotesque and out-of-control grief is literally mirrored by the group of Hårga women who collectively kneel in front of her, faces similarly contorted, and scream in pain in mimic of hers. It is chilling.
As in any horror movie, there a general idea of what is to come. The sun never sets, yet that does not stop people from meeting quite gruesome ends. The wide shots of verdant forest, flowering fields, open sky, and blue-grey, craggy cliffs evoke the sublime and contribute to a sense of disorientation and dread. Ari Aster proceeds to take every possible narrative thread to its terrible end as explained in the YouTube video linked above. Any logistical and societal issue that an isolated and remote cult may bump up against is addressed.
Midsommar conjures that quality of hyper-realness and disorientation of trauma. Aural and visual perceptions are sharply juxtaposed, furthering confusion. Time is sped up and slowed. There is a feeling of being without or outside of time. There is hyper-vigilance and not knowing where the danger will come from. The film moves into an blood-thirsty and satisfying ending as Dani experiences frightful catharsis. The viewer wonders what will happen to her now that she is bound to a group that will ultimately annihilate her.
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The best online retailers for are currently Waterstones and Blackwells. If you’re in Chicago, you can get a copy from Raghav directly at a discounted rate.
