MIDSOMMAR

Florence Pugh     Jack Reynor     Will Poulter     William Jackson-Harper

Vilhelm Blomgran     Archie Madekwe     Ellora Torchia

     Midsommar brings to mind romantic associations to a festival, summer/winter solstice, and cultural traditions.  How much writer-director Ari Aster (Heredity) depicts actual traditions in this film and how much he embroiders them with his own fantasies, I’m not sure, but suspect that most of what is seen in the film is from Aster’s own imagination. The film certainly goes way, way out in its characterizations and plot, so that by the end you know you’ve seen a freaky, quintessential horror show.  It’s helped along by Pawel Pogorzelski’s eloquent, captivating, and beautifully composed cinematography and The Haxan Cloak’s music that draws from genres ranging from the medieval to the hauntingly eerie to the most dissonant modern.  

     Midsommar begins as a thoroughly American kind of drama, with a couple, Dani (Pugh) and Christian (Reynor), who are going through ups and downs.  She is very needy, especially after a tragedy in her family, and his friends urge him to ditch her for someone else.  A trip to Sweden might be the answer.  Pelle (Blomgran) has invited his close friends [Christian, Mark (Poulter), and Josh (Jackson-Harper)] to go with him to his native Sweden for the Midsommar festival.  He grew up in a commune, so they would all be welcomed by his huge family. They hadn’t counted on Dani going with them, but she wangles an invitation, and Pelle lets her know how happy he is that she is coming along.

     The American group arrives in Sweden, and are taken to country fields sprinkled with people who turn out to be part of Pelle’s large family.  He introduces them all—ever the gallant host—and his friends are awestruck.  They will be even more awestruck when they impulsively decide to trip on drugs supplied by the communal community.  Dani is reluctant to imbide, but under peer pressure gives in; only to re-experience the tragedy she just endured.  But she gets hold of herself, and proceeds with the others to Pelle’s commune, where there are throngs of people all dressed in white.

     The rest of the story is about what the friends encounter and experience there, which ranges from the simple (helping cook meals) to the esoteric (engaging—not necessarily willingly—in bizarre rituals).  The viewer likely will experience what most of the American characters experience—a curiosity followed by unease and anxiety, even hysteria, and, finally, horror.

     Some may find comfort in preordained events—at least from godly figures (there’s nothing you can do about it, so you can’t be blamed)—but when they’re orchestrated by controllers with an ulterior motive, it can be the most unsettling and horrible experience one can imagine.  That is what Ari Aster does with this film.  He subjects his characters—and maybe viewers as well—to events they’ve never dreamed of, prompting us all to wonder what we would do in those circumstances.

     After her stint as Katherine in Lady Macbeth (2016) and here, Florence Pugh establishes herself as an actress with range and talent.  That being said, her role, as written, does not provide much of a showcase moment.  It’s actually true for all the characters; actors are not given opportunities to shine. Aster’s intention appears to be emphasizing story over characterization, specifically in the contrasts between cultures.  He jabs Americans a bit in their general disregard for tradition and in their inclination to break rules (a bit of “ugly Americans”), but the Swedes’ traditions as shown here evoke strong opinions about attitudes about death and individual agency.

     The film’s two-hour twenty-minute length may stretch the viewer’s tolerance; certainly, some of the over-the-top last scenes could have been cut, and making a better film.

A cross-cultural trip like one you have probably never seen.

Grade:  B                                    By Donna R. Copeland

THE LITTLE STRANGER

Domhnall Gleeson     Ruth Wilson     Will Poulter     Charlotte Rampling

     Based on Sarah Waters’ gothic novel, The Little Stranger movie preserves the “creepiness” attendant on an old, crumbling house, mysterious sounds and goings on, periodic tragedies, and an eccentric family, once wealthy, trying to hang on as long as possible.  Whereas the young doctor who’s called for medical treatment now and then appears to be a sensible, dedicated physician (and narrator for the story), he becomes strangely attached to the family and the house, which actually dates back to the time when he was a child and his mother served as a maid at “Hundreds Hall.”

     All this is a perfect set-up for a horror movie, on which Lucinda Coxon has based her screenplay, and Lenny Abrahamson has directed.  But in addition to the mysteriousness, the author of the novel had social issues in mind, wanting to show a picture of what began to happen to the idea of class post WWI and the decline of wealthy estates.  We see, then, the brilliant descriptions of the narrator’s impressions of the mansion when he was the child of a maid visiting on a holiday.  As a grown-up physician attending to the inhabitants of the mansion years later, he develops a strange attraction to them.  Clearly, he is in touch with the young child’s aspirations to belong in such a place, but in his grandiosity, he is also convinced that he can help and protect them from any kind of threat, perhaps as assurance that he can belong.  He “over-identifies” with them.

     Probably also as a residue of the class system, the well-to-do family is ambivalent toward accepting Dr. Faraday wholeheartedly.  Some of his medical treatments are met with ambivalence, as are his attempts to woo the daughter of the matron.  Caroline (Wilson) is grateful for Dr. Faraday’s (Gleeson) attention and care, but going beyond the professional relationship is not a given for her.

     The author of the novel and the filmmakers have been clever in maintaining ambiguity and suspense, so that the reader/viewer has to observe, analyze, and guess what is going to transpire.  The haunting of the house is seductive—particularly if it’s related to the deceased child of the owner—but just as much is the pull toward a “psychological” explanation, as defined by Dr. Faraday and his colleagues.  If you find that the ending is ambiguous, you will not be alone.  So you get one character’s observation of “Something in this house hates us” and then, “This whole thing between us has never been real”, the former indicating a haunted house, and the latter being more of a psychological explanation.

     Domhnall Gleeson is up to his previous performance in Ex Machina in portraying a complex, somewhat naïve character.  Ruth Wilson, Will Poulter, and Charlotte Rampling are excellent in their supporting roles. Wilson expertly exhibits an ambivalent person who is perpetually torn between two positions.  Will Poulter is skilled in showing a dark character with layers of anger and resentment.  Charlotte Rampling always has just the right balance between being threatening toward others and being playful.  

     Working against the film is the pace, which many found slow, although since much attention was given to character development, I didn’t mind it. What did bother me was the darkness of the picture, which may be attributed to a dim bulb on the projector.  At any rate, many scenes were so dark it was difficult to see the action.   Understanding Irish accents is also a problem for the viewer at times.  

     In its favor, are numerous horrific scenarios, some of which come as a surprise and make you jump in your seat.  As mentioned, the additional commentary on social change and upheaval of the time (post WWI) describe the characteristic viewpoints of the wealthy and the common.  

A film that does justice to its genre of horror, drama, and mystery.

Grade:  B-                                    By Donna R. Copeland

DETROIT

John Boyega     Will Poulter     Algee Smith     Jacob Latimore     John Kraskinski     Hannah Murray     Anthony Mackie

   Hardcore racism is difficult to watch, especially when the offender is weak and overcompensating for it with sadistic acting-out.  Detroit puts us in the shoes of black people who have endured hundreds of years of false accusations and persecution.  When I became so disturbed watching it in the movie and had the urge to leave, it told me this is something I need to stay for, watch, and listen. 

      Kathryn Bigelow and her trusted writer Mark Boal give an account of the 1967 race riots in Detroit from a perspective that perhaps has never been presented before.  Its value in dramatizing it is in their bringing white people in to see firsthand what black people experience every day, and hopefully to give black people the sense a) that some of us do understand, and b) they get some vindication for the stereotypes that have been foisted on them.  Stereotypes of black people are rampant in the story, and sadly are still prominent in our society fifty years later.

     The film focuses on random people getting together in the Algiers Motel on the third night of rioting.  They include a member of the aspiring vocal group, The Dramatics, and their agent, two young women from Ohio who enjoy the company of black men, their black male friend, a prankster, and a couple of his friends.  Unfortunately, the prankster has a starting pistol (for track races) that makes a pop like a real gun, which he uses to play a joke on his guests.  Then, when he looks out to see patrols on the street, he shoots it out the window, “to show them how scared we get when they’re after us.”  Little does he know that one weak officer Krauss (Poulter) will jump to conclusions, think there is an actual sniper in the motel, and proceed to locate the shooter, no matter what it takes, including planting evidence.  He has already been reprimanded by a superior for his conduct, but it doesn’t “take.”

     The film portrays the rioting and looting similar to a newsreel, (perhaps deriving from real ones) showing police and politicians taken by surprise (because they had not paid attention to the growing unrest from joblessness and promises not kept), and the National Guard is brought in.  The rioting has already been going on for two days before our hapless Algiers Motel group gets drawn in by what Krauss (Poulter) hears is a sniper.  He then proceeds to round up anyone in the motel he can find who might know something, and abuse them in an attempt to get them to identify the shooter.  (Difficult, since there was none.)

      I understand the story is based on reports of the events that occurred before the riot, as well as events leading up to it.  Boal and Bigelow elaborated on these accounts for dramatic effect, including the creation of the Krauss character, loosely based on an officer who was charged with a crime, but subsequently found not guilty by an all-white jury.  Some questions are not addressed, such as why none of the hostages mentioned that Carl’s gun was a starting pistol (no bullets) until they were in court proceedings.  Why was Krauss put back on the force after he had shot a looter in the back and killed him?  Why didn’t the hostages get the officer’s name?  Why didn’t people ask for lawyers when they were arrested?  Was the prosecution in the court trial really that bad?  These are minor points, and may be explained partly by the time; in 1967, the people held hostage may not have realized they could ask such questions.

      My skepticism has lessened after reading Mark Boal’s account in Vulture, “Why I Wrote Detroit” http://www.vulture.com/2017/07/mark-boal-on-why-he-wrote-the-movie-detroit.html.  His sources included “the historical record”, consisting of documents, police files, John Hersey’s book The Algiers Motel, and interviews of the people involved, including Cleveland Larry Reed, the Dramatics co-founder and singer who was held captive by police officers and emotionally damaged permanently as a result.  In actual fact, three black men were killed that night and nine people were kept hostage in the Algiers Motel.

     Rather than the story being character driven, Boal and Bigelow wanted to show that at times, social forces take precedence over individuals’ actions and will.  He says, “The underlying intention…was always pretty straightforward: to unpack the riot and this one incident at the Algiers from the point of view of its many participants, and thereby enable the audience to experience the events themselves.”  And in that respect, the filmmakers are entirely successful in giving viewers the sense of really being there and experiencing the horror, a horror that could conceivably be entirely true, even today.  Helplessness in an individual in such system-wide movement is aptly illustrated by the fine actor John Boyega playing a security guard who valiantly tries to intervene in the Algiers Motel, but is usually brushed aside and even falsely arrested.

The dramatization of horrific events fifty years ago that can inform us today.

Grade:  A                                    By Donna R. Copeland