…if you haven’t seen Ari Aster‘s Midsommar. From a guy who saw it last night. Without further ado:
“Loved Midsommar, and was with it all the way: the more bonkers it got, the more I was lapping it up. I howled when the old lady grabbed Jack Reynor‘s ass and started shoving it up and down. His bug-eyed ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?’ face is priceless. Ari has the fucking goods, imbued with the go-for-broke guts of Ken Russell and the sinister precision of Roman Polanski. I will now go see anything this guy does, knowing that it may not be perfection but will be skilled, intelligent and original.
“I felt the whole thing was less about dealing with a romantic break-up and more about the lead female character” — Florence Pugh‘s — “finding a support group that was able to share and absorb and help her channel the incalculable grief stemming from the loss of her sister, mother and father. I think the shitty boyfriend is less of a problem than the galactic rage and pain she needs to expel from her soul. He unfortunately gets caught in the crossfire, but he’s hardly EVIL…he’s just a crappy boyfriend. What man in his early 20s is mature enough to be a good boyfriend, really?
“Pugh’s character is much more culpable, especially since her new ‘family’ plotted the whole thing. THEY coerced & roofied her boyfriend into a pagan mating ritual while they distracted her with a flowery carriage ride coronation. When Dani returns and sees her boyfriend fucking the pube-cake girl, she runs into the dorm and all the young women surround her, drop down to the floor with her in solidarity and scream along with her. Their screams are ALL genuine — a shared howl of female pain and rage because all of them have felt this kind of betrayal before. It’s an extremely powerful moment that felt so real and was such a smart choice.