Midsommar review, Culture Whisper
There’s a scene in Midsommar, Ari Aster's follow-up to the grief-stricken Hereditary, when five travellers drive through a Swedish forest and their world bends upside down. Approaching Hårga, the cultic commune they’ve come to research, Aster’s camera twists around until the road is at the top – levelling out again as they arrive.
This is more than just divine imagery. The characters cross to a different world: one that doesn’t obey the laws of nature or civility, where the sun is constantly in the sky, where the locals dress in white frocks and live in black houses, a world that’s hidden with nowhere to hide.
