Midsommar ★★★★½

Florence Pugh is a pied piper. In Lady MacBeth, her Katherine goes from being a sympathetic victim to an unflinching tyrant. Her trick is in not letting on exactly when the transition happens. It's only when all is said and done you realise she's taken you with her and you've morally justified every action, no matter how objectively sinister they became.

Played out on a much bigger canvas, Midsommar takes Pugh's Dani on a similar journey. Grief stricken and in a loveless relationship, we naturally feel for Dani, wishing her partner was everything she deserved and more. Christian is inattentive and tactless towards her and those in the Midsommar commune, acting as if none of his actions have consequences. Every time he's shown to not know something about his partner of four years adds to a simmering sense of romantic injustice.

So despite the cult's twisted rituals, Dani feels an affinity for their genuine sense of affection towards their own. They welcome her, including her in food preparation and the chance to become May Queen. Unlike her life in America, there's a support network here that not even her romantic partner is providing.

And how dare he. This is a young woman who's gone through the unimaginable, who at the very least needs people around her to show they care. She's submissive to all of Christian's decisions and all of the times he's shown to pay so little attention to her. All she wants is to know she matters, and if the choice is there, to be held.

And as Pugh takes us down that route, we come to the ultimate decision between Christian and the rituals of the commune. If you're like me, you supported her the whole way, only to be left horrified by Dani, Midsommar, and yourself 🌸🔥🌼

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