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Midsommar is a film that will best serve people who are seeking inspiration for a very spectacular way to break up. Aster again lags behind his own ambitions. Midsommar ostentatiously gives the impression that it wants to be an essential contribution to the horror genre. However, the long runtime, slowness and seriousness emanating from the grandiose filming of everyday scenes (camera crane FTW!) and the coldly methodical, mechanically timed editing do not guarantee great depth of thought or psychology (the comparison with Bergman, who did not pretend to be enigmatic, is laughable). When you shoot a psychological horror movie and let the actors ham it up and the characters behave like idiots who do not mind the fact that people are disappearing around them, you pull the rug out from under yourself. In the final third of the film, it is as if Aster is so attached to his effort to build tension that he completely forgets to develop the banal, straightforwardly told story and to concern himself with whether the characters’ actions are consistent. Though noteworthy from an anthropological point of view and nourishing for interpretive adventurers, the attempt to pound into our head with every shot the fact that something scary is about to happen (which is paradoxically less effective than subtler hints would be) and that we are watching a tremendously sophisticated horror film becomes increasingly annoying as the minutes drag by. I could much better imagine Midsommar as a musical comedy (it is actually not far from being just that, though not intentionally) about a group of doped-up flower children singing and dancing in a meadow, wearing animal costumes and familiarising themselves with a foreign culture and cuisine, including, among other things, meat pie with baked female pubic hair. Ari Aster is not a bad director and he knows how to create a dense atmosphere in individual scenes. He would just be better served by considering what is enough. 70% (2019.07.25)

No sophomore slump this time. With his second feature film, Ari Aster confirms that in recent years there hasn’t been a more significant directorial breakthrough, at least not in the field of the darker genres. Midsommar’s atmosphere is unique, beautiful in its visuals and exciting in the portrayal of the concept of trauma, which the main character is experiencing. And mainly, it’s incredibly, truly incredibly bizarre. Rather than a second Hereditary, what we have here is some sort of perverted sunny fairy-tale, “The Wizard of Oz” for the weirdos, as Aster himself said in an interview. Why then only 4* (for the moment)? After Aster’s first film, I was probably expecting a more radical twist and a sharper horror ending. Midsommar manages to surprise in several individual moments (many of which were of course in the trailer), but as whole it goes in a fairly expected direction. The ending IS mad, but, once again, in a bizarre rather than horrifying manner. I could get over it, but, the fundamental difference with Hereditary is that this time, at least during the first viewing, I wasn’t able to relate to the character of Dani enough to fully comprehend her final mood. To get the meaning of Midsommer, it is absolutely essential that the relationship between Dani and Christian resonate with the viewer. But I was too enchanted by the pagan bizarreness around to live with the characters the crisis in their relationship. So, I hope that the half hour extended version that’s in the works won’t have much more gore, sex and nastiness, but will get deeper into that central relationship. That would work perfectly for me. (2019.07.25)

A long-overdue stay in the village of Harga ... and what can I say? It’s great! The best couples therapy / horror about the ultimate evil and a relationship destroyer called a thesis. I've seen a lot of ambitious US horror movies in recent years that were inadvertently funny. What at first glance seems to affect the viewer's psyche as an extract from psychotropic, or perhaps even poisonous mushrooms, in fact resembles, after watching the film, the unpleasant come-down after smoking an excessive amount of marijuana cigarettes, which contain more twigs and other unpleasant ingredients. The film combines ridicule of practices that are common in sects and a bizarrely-constructed drama with the theme of toxic relationships. It works like a anthropological study written in the manic phase. In a year from now, our entire family is going to be dead. Along with Get Out, it’s the peak of the wave of indie horror films. Bye - Ari Zoroaster aka Josef Midsommar. (2019.11.21)

Horror subgenres are bound by traditions, and this applies to “folklore horror" even more. It can’t surprise anyone, if we are talking about a movie that is centred around following and respecting traditions, right? Maybe that's why not many filmmakers are eager to make something like this. Because dealing with the fact that the viewer will know “where the movie is going" is certainly not easy. You will not only know it, but you will expect it and maybe even require it. What's worse, you get into a position where you reluctantly expose your work to the  pedestal of cult classics with The Wicker Man at the top. Nevertheless, several good films in this vein have appeared in recent years. Aster's Midsommar is the best of them (although it is paradoxically closer to the new Suspiria than the original The Wicker Man (1973). After all, as with all the best horror movies, “scaring/disturbing" is just a means of looking at ordinary problems. So Midsommar is primarily a chilling psychological study of a dysfunctional relationship/breakup, and what goes hand in hand with that is the fact that this study is disturbing, unpleasant, magnificently shot, enriched with some gore effect and performed in a riveting way. (2019.09.08)

Ari Aster and Jordan Peele are the John Carpenter and David Cronenberg of the 21st Century without question! Midsommar is one of those controversial horror films that isn't very rewarding to viewers and will only please the more discerning and, above all, patient ones, who will, however, be solidly rewarded. The biggest downside is the slower pace (almost nothing interesting happens for the first hour), but from the first "ceremony" the film starts to get more and more interesting and above all disturbing. The whole mythology of the Swedish pagan community is interesting enough, novel and very unpredictable. A big plus is Florence Pugh, who gives a breathtaking performance (definitely the most talented young actress of our time), the music is also perfect, very unconventional for a horror film, but fits perfectly here. There is also very creative cinematography and the absolute biggest attraction is of course the gore, which Ari Aster serves up in such a shocking way that weaker viewers will prefer to give up and leave the film. The ending is typically symbolic and incredibly morbid (I've never seen anything weirder). Slow, creepy, disturbing, shocking, unorthodox and powerfully controversial is what Midsommar is. I liked Hereditary a bit more, but this is also a gem. PS: Those teens that go to the cinema cinema just because they see the horror genre and want to jump out of their seats, they must have been very surprised at what they actually got. 80% (2019.07.09)

A convincing example that goosebumps can appear on a viewer even watching a film that takes place mostly during the day. Ari Aster has all the hints or mythological connections thoroughly thought out, symbolism plays a leading role, and Florence Pugh is perfectly persuasive in intertwining her civilian life with mental difficulties. However, this Midsommar lasts disproportionately long, the few twists, though suggestive and disturbing, can be seen from miles away – and then there's the last half hour. Specific, striking, unique, but above all, overdone. I've been thinking about it for quite a while, but I still can't take it seriously. I understand what and why is happening during the rituals, but a figurative boundary is crossed with every moan from the group. (2021.06.17)

Is it a horror film or is it not a horror film? The short answer is yes and it is damn good. For the long answer, we must first define what a horror film is. Horror movies are not made up of scares (the best ones do not have any at all) or the supernatural (a full range of great horror movies get by without it), and even gory scenes are not unconditionally necessary (as Poltergeist shows). When we come to the full essence, we reach two parallel paths, where one follows the effects on the audience and the other the internal principles of storytelling. On the first path, together with the greats of film criticism and theory, we find that horror is a genre that evokes intense responses in viewers in accordance with the depicted scenes. Linda Williams’s legendary essay likens horror to porn and melodrama, where viewers also observe certain situations that are supposed to elicit their directly proportionate physical response in relation to a given bodily fluid (blood, semen, tears). On the other path into the inner workings of horror stories, we can get to the very essence of horror, which consists in the fact that certain elements penetrate the characters’ inner or outer world, disrupting their deep-rooted values and certainties, which suddenly cease to be valid and the characters have to come to terms with that. The intrusive element may be a serial killer who turns a peaceful suburb into a nightmare or ghosts who turn the characters’ home into a place of life-threatening danger. Besides all manner of classic horror movies, both of these stripped-down definitions can also apply to films that are otherwise assigned to absolutely different categories, from brilliantly disturbing thrillers such as The Hitcher to Ingmar Bergman’s agonising psychological dramas, particularly Persona and Cries and Whispers. Ari Aster took a similar path, whereupon he shot one of the most physically intense and most suggestive horror films of recent years, which thoroughly disturbs the audience by confronting it with a world where completely different values apply and where the most frightening thing happens in broad daylight and inside the main character. Furthermore, Midsommar has phenomenal camera work and dramaturgy, reinforcing the concise vision. After Jordan Peel, we have another significantly distinctive talent who shows us that horror does not have a single universal form, but can rather be a space for original creative realisation. (2019.07.28)

There are only a few horror genre directors worth buying a movie ticket for, and Ari Aster convinced me with his debut last year that he belongs to this select group. While watching Hereditary, I had the impression that the director gradually went astray and the result did not correspond to the possibilities, but with his second attempt, he hit the bullseye. Ari created an incredibly polished genre film that, in my opinion, will deeply divide not only the audience but also the critics. It is a film that goes against genre conventions and fan expectations. Do not expect typical jump scares, dynamic editing, sudden camera movements, ghosts, and blood splatters everywhere you look. For the average viewer, Midsommar will probably be too slow and frustratingly ineffective. Others, on the other hand, will encounter emotional barriers. Midsommar goes against audience expectations and needs, and it will unpleasantly attack your psyche. Aster questions the ethical norms derived from Christianity and enlightenment, returning us to the time of pagan cults, shamanism, and mysticism. He turns our value system upside down and shows us people willing to die voluntarily, as well as kill others without remorse because earthly existence is just a preparation for the afterlife, where death signifies mere metamorphosis into a higher sphere. Similarly, the depiction of the sexual act is unpleasant and significantly contrasts with current film trends. The director tests our limits of emotional endurance. He plays with open cards, he is predictable, but at the same time, he builds his game with the viewer. Carefully, he strains us with how far we are willing to go. Aster's direction primarily works with contrasts. The color white is usually a symbol of innocence, but here it evokes an evil premonition. The sun, a symbol of life, brings only ruin. Pleasing scenes hide horrifying content. Aster works his magic with the camera and skillfully mixes music, just like Lynch used to do. He relies on an unknown but flawlessly functioning cast, of which Florence Pugh, above all, will likely become a rising star of the film scene. The result is a film that pushes the boundaries of the genre. Surprisingly, no one thought to explore this highly interesting sphere, except for Robin Hardy's The Wicker Man (which lacks filmmaking precision). Overall impression: 90%. (2019.08.02)

A bizarre mindfuck full of Nordic cults, precise camerawork and a tense atmosphere that gradually builds into an unadulterated inferno. The depiction of violence and murder doesn't matter, on the contrary it is fresh, crisply shot and at times very intense with the help of the music and the skill of the filmmakers. An interesting mix of dark relationship drama, set in even darker interiors and exteriors (the first half), where everyone finds their own thing about both protagonists, and an over-lit feast for the eyes, where everyone is nice before the murders begin. Paradoxically, while the relationship drama has power and tends to emerge from the darkness, the seemingly positive, lavishly photographed natural scenery of the wilderness is full of light, but here the adage that it’s darkest under the candlestick is doubly true. Bold filmmaking that hasn't been here in such a form and with such a unique directorial style for a long time. (2020.06.28)

It's like a modern The Witch meets 1973’s The Wicker Man. Midsommar is a concentrated, poetic, psychological horror film, but it doesn't scare simply by shocking and frightening – it scares by its creeping unpredictability, where we know how someone will end up, yet we have no earthly idea what will happen to them or when. Hereditary rather disappointed me, but Aster's second film has already won it for me by a landslide. The opening, in which we get to know the characters and their relationships, is already impeccable, but after the flight to Sweden it's hard to find words to describe the atmosphere that ensues. And how it is filmed! Imaginative camera angles and editing, long and absorbing shots, plus "live" music and one heathen stranger than the other. I look forward to seeing it again – I know exactly what to focus on. (2019.08.02)

Or how the massive ambitions of a filmmaker can tarnish a great film in the second half. During the first 80 minutes or so, I was glued to my seat – that absolute wave of depression, the original setting and the carefully built hopelessness worked on me like all those mind altering substances did on the main characters. And when explicit death came, it felt like a needle under a nail thanks to its perfectly prepared motivational chessboard. Aster has awesome ideas, he knows how to make the viewer nervous with only a perfect blend of sound and image, and he’s not afraid of experimenting with themes and genres, so even with a pinch of Bergman (in the reliance of the expressions of the actors), a pinch of Miklós Jancsó (long shots and the precisely arranged depth of the movements in the mise-en-scène) and a dose of Hardy’s The Wicker Man, it doesn’t feel overstuffed. Until the middle, that is. Then, as in his previous work, the director somehow stops telling the story of the characters in an intelligible way and relies on visual gimmicks to fool the viewer, who doesn’t have anyone to focus their sympathies on. The characters become pawns in a psychopathic game with a message that is unfortunately weak due to the not very effective relationships among them and the weird, unemotional ending. And yet, the boredom was only minimal and the film somehow managed to keep me constantly curious about what would happen in the next minute; it’s a pity that in the end it was mostly the bluff of a smart creator who knows how to put together atmospheric sequences, but forgets about a holistic and narrative structure. For me, 70% and I’m adding the fourth star only for the joy of watching the charmingly charismatic Florence Pugh, who (again) was like made for this role. I will surely watch it again. (2019.08.02)

Ari Aster had already fully laid his cards on the table, and showed us his hand, his signature moves. Midsommar is the follow-up to his previous movie Hereditary, but it is perhaps even less of a pure-bred horror movie, (at times, it is almost reminiscent of a methodical ethnographic drama, in which somescenes are just inadvertently extremely violent), in fact, it closely resembles its undeniable influence, The Wicker Man, and at times perhaps way too much. Anyway, it is very interestingly crafted and is well-made. Aster knows very well how to direct his actors, and how to film them in order to create visually stunning shots. In addition, it perfectly and masterfully depicts a setting in which the audience and the main characters must necessarily feel like unwelcome strangers, and the movie is spiced up with tons of humor (the character played by Will Poulter is absolutely hilarious, even in an otherwise quite serious story). Although the fates of the main characters are relatively predictable (which was probably the intention), it is still technically brilliant filmmaking, which I enjoy watching, even though it has a running time of two and a half hours which fly by, and at times it is jaw-droppingly good. Ari Aster prepared some real "WTF" moments for the audience. (2019.07.25)

If I hadn't seen last year's Hereditary, I'd probably wonder a lot about how much of a freak show Midsommar is. In a lot of ways, I thought it was very similar to Ari Aster's film from last year, only it had a slower pace and flashier visuals. At the centre again is a family of sorts – this time in a looser sense – clashing with a religious cult whose traditions and rules are beyond the understanding of the common person. The fact that the film largely takes place in daylight, helped in particular by the costumes and the production design in addition to the lighting, and yet manages to evoke an oppressive, almost dark atmosphere, is certainly admirable. As with Hereditary, you have take into account that this is not, and in fact is not meant to be, a conventional (mystery) horror film. It does not set out to be a mass-market film, rather it is a sort of experiment within the genre. At some points, there is a sense of a perhaps overly blatant attempt to push genre boundaries and convey deeper ideas, but for the most part it worked for me. In addition to the unprecedented visual concept and camera work, I'd like to highlight the heavy musical score. In the cinema, it didn't even seem to me that the film was nearly two and a half hours long, and by having more time for everything, the ending didn't seem as much out of place and comprehension as it did with Hereditary. (2019.08.06)

The arrival of Ari Aster on the contemporary horror scene is comparable to the arrival of New Hollywood into the stale conventions and themes of the American film mainstream of the time. There are dozens of ideas and themes in Midsommar that could be dissected for practically hours. The absence of the night, the essential horror setting, whose darkness threatens us with an unknown evil that lurks within it, and where every shape and contour can turn into something dangerous, is replaced here by a hallucinatory surreality that is as much influenced by the strangeness and elusiveness of the pagan community as it is by the popping of whatever psychoactive herbs the protagonists get under their noses. The cinematography, which reveals new information through slow pans and infrequent cuts, then excellently reinforces the impression of the continuity of that enclosed place and builds up the illusion that there is a process going on constantly in the background that is not explained to us, which along with the escalating terror, becomes increasingly unnerving. Unlike the vast majority of horror films, the characters here are not reduced to mere figures in peril after they are introduced, but their relationships and positions are continually finding their roles throughout the plot. Midsommar, like Aster's previous Hereditary, is a truly unique experience in the horror field, but there's still, still something holding me back from the absolute. There was certainly no need for Will Poulter's frequent comic relief here, and it wasn't helped much by the atmosphere of the packed cinema, which indulged in a chorus of laughter during some of the more bizarre moments. I could probably write a thesis on the reactions that the sight of an old woman's naked breasts evokes in many. Still, there are no heavier and more distressing films being made in Europe. Aster is a phenomenon. I can't wait for the promised BluRay with the extra 30 minutes that had to be cut to keep the film from winning an NC-17 rating. PS: the fact that Aster, in his own words, was trying to formally approximate German's Hard to Be a God proves that we're simply on the same wavelength. PPS: nightmares have gradually come around. (2019.07.25)

A weird and, since I watched the Director's Cut, long film. I was impressed by how the creators managed to match the sunny visuals with the unsettling atmosphere. But who knows, maybe that’s only the way I perceived it, cults have always evoked unpleasant feelings in me. With the growing number of folklore performances, I began to fear that if the pace slowed down any more, my DVD would get stuck, but those were needless concerns because the creators prepared a number of interesting traditional (as in Old Norse) customs for me. So, even if the story was dragging on at times, the three hours just raced by. What a paradox. (2020.03.09)

After Hereditary, Ari Aster has come up with another movie that just proves that he is a man in his own right and that his movies will definitely not leave you cold. The American-Swedish movie Midsommar is a terrifying example of how visual beauty can be combined with a continually rising tension that leaves you unsure whether it is pure madness or not. Midsommar is a unique and powerful cinematic experience. (2019.08.17)

"We patiently wait for your verdict." Crystal clear proof that even a trip to Sweden (or a trip in Sweden:))) really doesn't do a dysfunctional partnership any good. Instead, it will only contribute to the manifestation of accumulated negative feelings, which simply cannot end well. Midsommar is basically a revelation in the horror genre, because it disregards established templates and contains virtually no jump scares. Moreover, it can't be denied a certain detachment and openly admitted superficiality, because at some point it flips from atmospheric (and wannabe serious) horror to a gore grotesque. But in no way does this mean that Midsommar isn't scary or shocking. The intense, stark, and at times almost uncomfortable visuals are very reminiscent of Aronofsky's best work, but otherwise Ari Aster is going a pretty sovereign and original route. The story isn't very intricate or deep, but it manages to bait the hell out of you right from the beginning and from the moment of the first ritual it grabs you and doesn't let go. One of the best cinematic experiences of this year and both thumbs up for the appealing courage to buck the mainstream while abstaining from the arthouse wanker approach. (2019.08.07)