Folk Horror at Home and Abroad in Ari Aster’s Midsommar

Upon its release, Ari Aster’s Midsommar (2019) was hailed as a new Folk Horror masterpiece. Like so many other films in the genre – for instance, The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy, 1973) and the made-for-TV movie The Dark Secret of Harvest Home (Leo Penn, 1978) – Aster’s film ends in death and with the triumph of the values of a secluded community over the members of a more modern society.

Many viewers read this violent ending as cathartic. Dani (Florence Pugh) has finally shed all the people and circumstances in her life that made her miserable. Her acceptance by the Hårga and the enigmatic smile that plays on her face as she watches her boyfriend, Christian (Jack Reynor), burn to death are seen as the hallmarks of a happy ending.

This reading of the ending, however, becomes complicated if we take into account the theories of Adam Scovell. In his book, Folk Horror: Hours Dreadful and Things Strange (2017), Scovell proposes that there are three elements at play within a particular film that make it Folk Horror. Each of these elements is linked to the others in what Scovell calls the “Folk Horror Chain.” They are:

• the use of the landscape and the environment as an isolating influence
• the skewed morality and belief systems of communities that develop in these environments
• the violent manifestations that proceed from these belief systems

By applying the Folk Horror Chain to the two communities presented in Midsommar – America and Hälsingland – we realize that each is merely the flip side of the same coin. The horrors that Dani experiences at home function as the dark mirror image of the horrors she will experience abroad.

In the beginning of the film, the first link in Scovell’s “Chain” manifests itself through Dani and her environment. She is alone in her apartment, utterly isolated. Her only contact with others is within the digital landscape. On the one hand, she cannot get an answer from her sister, Terri (Klaudia Csányi) via email; on the other, she gets no real empathy from her friends over the phone. What Aster shows us is not so much an isolated community like Hårga, but a social system that alienates its members from each other. There is no connection between neighbors, friends, lovers, and families.

This brings us to Scovell’s second link: the belief systems that develop in such isolated communities. The “rugged individualism” of America is of no help to people who require human contact and empathy. When Mark (Will Poulter) tells Christian (Jack Reynor) that Dani needs a therapist, Christian informs him that she has one. That doesn’t stop Mark from further denigrating Dani: he claims that by calling Christian instead of her therapist, she is abusing their relationship. As Mary Beth McAndrews points out in her Polygon article “Midsommar takes a step forward and a step back in its portrayal of mental illness,”

“Mark equates having a therapist as having enough help and support for mental health issues, reflecting real world misunderstandings and attitudes about mental health care and support. Unfortunately, most therapists aren’t just a phone call away and can’t be reached 24/7. Boundaries are important, but you still need someone to talk to when your thoughts are racing and you just need a distraction. That’s why support systems are key to living with a mental illness.”

There are no support systems for Dani in her community. Each person is left to their own devices. Furthermore, it is suggested that those members who need support and reach out for it are draining the vitality from the stronger members of the community.

This leads us to the third link of the “Folk Horror Chain:” the violent manifestations that proceed from these belief systems. When people are isolated from one another to the extent that Dani and Terri are, the possibility of self-harm must be taken seriously. The murder-suicide ritual Terri performs is extreme and, from a real-world diagnostic point-of-view, out of the ordinary. From a dramatic standpoint, however, the shocking, suicidal violence that grows from American soil is only to be expected. As Scovell says in his book,

“Folk Horror is often about death in the slowest, most ritualistic of ways…where the group belief systems summon up something demonic or generally supernatural.”

Isolated individuals who sense that they have no connection to anyone else will feel that their lives do not matter in the grand scheme of things. Therefore, those who practice the belief system that encourages this kind of thinking shouldn’t be surprised when “The Savage God” is summoned into their midst.

As opposed to America, Hälsingland is bright, sunny, and warm. During the middle of the summer, the sun only sets for a few hours a day, and even then, there is never total darkness. There is nowhere to hide from the sun’s (and your neighbor’s) glare, nowhere to be by yourself, which is just as important to a healthy mindset as is connection to others. This landscape, therefore, creates an isolation of another kind: constant connection to others and the suppression of the individual self.

The anti-isolation fostered in Hårga can be seen in every aspect of their community. Whereas in America, Dani and Terri take medication to dampen their thoughts, the Hårga people take psychotropic hallucinogens to open their minds. In Hårga, no one has their own bedroom, their own space in which to disengage from the group.

The lack of empathy in America is supplanted by its extreme opposite in rural Sweden. When Dani witnesses Christian engaged in ritualistic sex with Maja (Isabelle Grill), she breaks down. The women in the community follow and surround her. As she sobs, so do they; her screams are matched by theirs. It’s not enough to tell someone else in Hårga that you understand their feelings; one must share the pain and pleasure of others immediately, without any differentiation between “you” and “me.”

By the end of the movie, Dani has become fully absorbed by the Hårga commune. She is their May Queen, and as such, it is up to her to choose the ninth and final sacrificial victim in order to complete the ritual that will purge evil from the community. Dani chooses Christian. The end result of communal values in America and Hårga, then, is the same: death. In America, Terri’s suicide and the murder of her parents come about through that society’s lack of empathy for and understanding of people with depression. For the Hårga culture, murder and suicide are embraced by the members. Just as there are no boundaries between people in Hårga, there are no boundaries between death and life.

Identifying the Folk Horror aspects of both societies adds a layer of inevitability to Dani’s fate. Thinking that she is leaving behind the trauma of America to find a new beginning in Hårga, Dani doesn’t seem to realize that there is no real difference between the two. At the end of Midsommar, she remains trapped in a society that erupts periodically into violence, which may, in the future, be turned on her.

 

James Lewis earned his Masters in English and Film Studies at North Carolina State University in 2014. He keeps a blog of his writings on film, television, and books at https://larpingreallife.blogspot.com/. He lives in North Hollywood, CA.