Midsommar- October 29

 Aaron Perez

10/29/2026

Image Credit: Nordisk Film

    The story follows Dani (Florence Pugh), a young woman reeling from an unimaginable family tragedy. Her emotionally distant boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor) and his anthropology-student friends invite her on a trip to a remote Swedish commune for a once-in-a-lifetime midsummer celebration. What begins as an attempt at healing quickly becomes something far more ritualistic, communal, and irreversible.

    Aster deliberately bathes nearly the entire film in perpetual daylight. There are almost no night scenes. The horror doesn’t hide in shadows — it smiles at you in the sun, offering flowers, communal meals, and ancient traditions that slowly reveal their true purpose.

Why the Daylight Feels So Wrong

    Most horror films rely on darkness, jump scares, and isolation. Midsommar does the opposite. The Hårga community is warm, welcoming, and aesthetically beautiful. White dresses, flower crowns, painted runes, and endless sunny fields create a visual language that feels closer to a folk festival than a nightmare. That contrast is the film’s greatest weapon. The more beautiful and harmonious everything looks, the more disturbing it becomes when the rituals begin.

    Florence Pugh’s performance is extraordinary. Dani’s grief is raw and physical — the kind of sobbing that feels almost too real for a movie. Watching her slowly find a twisted form of belonging among the Hårga is both heartbreaking and hypnotic.

Themes That Linger

• Grief and the need to belong: Dani is looking for a family after losing everything. The Hårga offers her one — at a terrible price.
• Toxic relationships: Christian’s passive-aggressive detachment and the group’s subtle social dynamics feel painfully recognizable long before any ritual occurs.
• Cultural tourism and exploitation: The American visitors treat the community as an anthropological curiosity or free party. The Hårga, in turn, has its own very clear plans for them.
• Communal vs. individual: The film constantly asks whether the loneliness of modern life is better or worse than the extreme collectivism on display.

The Experience of Watching It

    Midsommar is deliberately paced. The first hour is heavy with emotional realism and rising unease. Once the rituals fully begin, the film becomes almost operatic in its intensity. Some viewers find the runtime (171 minutes in the director’s cut) excessive; others argue the length is essential — it forces you to live inside the festival the same way the characters do.

    The sound design and score (by The Haxan Cloak) are masterful. Soft folk melodies and ambient drones create a constant low-level dread even during the most “peaceful” scenes.

Final Thoughts

    Midsommar is not a conventional scare machine. It is a slow, sun-drenched meditation on grief, codependency, and the terrifying allure of belonging. It is beautiful, funny in a deeply uncomfortable way, and genuinely disturbing. Like Aster’s earlier Hereditary, it leaves you with images and emotions that are hard to shake.

    If you haven’t seen it, go in knowing as little as possible. Watch it on the biggest screen you can. And maybe don’t plan any summer trips to remote Swedish villages afterward.

    Have you seen Midsommar? Did the daylight horror work for you, or did you find yourself wishing for a few more shadows?

Sources:

Aster, Ari, director. Midsommar. Performances by Florence Pugh, Jack Reynor, William Jackson Harper, Vilhelm Blomgren, and Will Poulter, A24, 2019.

“Midsommar.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 18 Oct. 2026, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midsommar.

Olsen, Mark. “‘Midsommar’ Explained: The Filmmakers Unpack the Sex, Rituals and Shocking Ending.” Los Angeles Times, 3 July 2019, www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-midsommar-spoilers-ari-aster-jack-reynor-20190703-story.html.