Double Feature: Midsommar, Spider-Man: Far From Home
Wow.
And just like that, two new films have emerged atop my list of 2019's best films.
MCU behemoth Spider-Man: Far From Home and Ari Aster's sophomore effort Midsommar are two very different films. I was hesitant to make this piece another "Double Feature" as I am not sure I would recommend watching these films back-to-back. Of course, the masochists among us may enjoy pairing the overwhelming positivity of Spider-Man with Midsommar's caustic dread.
Ok, now that I think about it, you can totally see these back-to-back.
I suppose any two films I see in close proximity to each other could prompt me to draw parallels between them, but the relationship between the superhero blockbuster and indie darling here remains worthy of discussion.
Both films are in interested in things like grief, romance, and travel.
In fact, when you remove all the superhero and pagan stuff from each of these films, their elevator pitches sound remarkably similar: A young man/woman, stricken with grief, travels to Europe with the hopes of (re)kindling a romance.
I don't think it's a knock against Spider-Man to say that Midsommar deals with its topics in more complex and meaningful ways. Marvel films do have some interesting things to say, but they dress them up in so many costumes and explosions, the point can only be made so strongly. I guess my specific frustration with Far From Home is its commitment to playing out like a John Hughes film. I admire the MCU's Spider-Man films for participating in the tradition of coming-of-age films, but why can't they also push that genre's envelope in the process? Both Homecoming and Far From Home are hilarious and refreshing when compared with their superhero counterparts, but rather safe when compared with films like Lady Bird and The Edge of Seventeen.
On the other hand, with both Hereditary and Midsommar, Ari Aster demonstrates a deep and accurate understanding of young people today. I am mostly referring to Aster's insistence upon showing his characters smoking weed, but other moments such as Mark (Will Poulter) hitting a vape pen throughout the first half of Midsommar add a surprising amount of authenticity to a film about a group of graduate students. You don't see little details like that in most coming-of-age films today, and you certainly would never see that in a film as family-friendly as Spider-Man.
Still, Far From Home is acutely aware of the distractions that genre presents for it, and consequently interrogates the superhero genre's reliance upon visual effects and narrative gymnastics. The film speaks directly to its audience, particularly via Mysterio (Jake Gyllenhall), the primary antagonist of the film. And while Midsommar may not break the fourth wall in this same way, it is similarly interested in manipulating and engaging with its viewers.
With both of his films now, Aster has given has viewers all the clues and materials necessary to decipher his narrative and thematic intentions. It is simply a matter of whether or not we notice them. In the words of Midsommar star Florence Pugh, "look at the walls."
In this way, Aster renders his films interactive, a quality we often attribute to video games but not necessarily film. However, plenty of films ask us to solve a puzzle. Think Memento or The Usual Suspects. This notion of interactivity is therefore common in the thriller genre, but Aster's creation of interactive horror films is both groundbreaking and terrifying.
Hereditary, mostly confined to the darkness of the Graham household, takes this idea to mean interactive scares. One of the film's most memorable scenes comes towards the end, when Peter lies in bed, with his mother lurking in the upper left hand corner of the frame. One could watch this scene and never even see Annie, but if they do, they have opted in to one of the film's most chilling moments.
Midsommar takes place in a sun-soaked Swedish countryside, where nothing and no one can hide. There are less jump scares because everything is out in the open, but that is what makes it so terrifying. The extent to which we inspect the onscreen image still determines how creepy or scary we may find it. The light had always been a safe space in cinema. Not anymore.
Of course, I am not comparing Midsommar with Hereditary here, although there are several other parallels to draw. Both films feature a grieving protagonist overcome (saved?) by the inevitable grip of a pagan cult. Both films feature that protagonist having a really, really bad dream. Both films love blood. And fire.
But of course Aster's two first films maintain a meaningful relationship. It is much more surprising how much Midsommar has in common with its box office rival, Far From Home.
The eighth Spider-Man film in the last twenty years is a puzzle film in its own right. The first act of the film introduces us to Mysterio, a new hero who allegedly arrives from another universe to fill the hole Iron Man and Captain America left behind. Everything he says is corny and contrived, and anyone familiar with Mysterio's comic book origins likely saw his heel turn coming. Even so, Gyllenhaal cleverly mimics and mocks the superhero performances of his peers, and his over-the-top mania when revealed to be a vengeful ex-Stark employee is therefore made all the more satisfying.
"Nowadays, [people] will believe anything," Quentin Beck/Mysterio tells Spider-Man. He later comments that a story of a superhero from another universe is exactly the kind of lie people will eat right up. The claim is directed at the people of the Marvel Universe, sure, but it also speaks to us as viewers. Trailers for Far From Home mentioned Mysterio's arrival from the multiverse, and fans bought it hook, line, and sinker. Far From Home pokes fun at its own fans by not only deceiving them, but highlighting their gullibility.
Our rash and undying faithfulness to these big-budget blockbusters is not necessarily a bad thing. In truth, it's incredible for any piece of art to generate this much conversation. But as Beck fabricates elaborate displays of fire and water monsters, we are left wondering what exactly inspires such intense engagement with these texts. We as an audience understand these films as fabrications, made possible through lots and lots of CGI, yet we treat them as if they carry real-life stakes.
These films are obviously immersive. The humor, the action, the romance all develop worlds so convincing and so enjoyable, that we are willing to blur the dividing line between our own reality and the one presented onscreen. Far From Home is significant in that it asks us to pause, perhaps even abandon, this mentality. Mysterio's use of projections and illusions provides Far From Home with some of the MCU's most inventive sequences, as Peter/Spider-Man grapples with what is real and what is not. The film similarly implores audiences to consider the reliability of the onscreen image.
And in a world dominated by superheroes, that is no small task.
Far From Home marks the end of the MCU's Infinity Saga, ushering in an entirely new era of MCU storytelling. The Infinity Saga pulled us in, coddled us even, and hit us over the head with the idea that these superheroes are truly some of the most heroic individuals we will ever see. But its conclusion introduces us to Beck and several other ex-Stark employees who Tony mistreated and screwed over. Sure, Tony was a hero, and the film still celebrates that fact, but he was also a wealthy CEO who likely didn't care very much about the little guy. Far From Home encourages skepticism, even in regards to our idols, and the film's ending (the one after the credits) takes this one step further. The reveal of Nick Fury and Marian Hill as Skrulls Talos and Soren allows for a Sixth Sense-esque rewatch of the film, and suggests skepticism as essential to whatever the MCU has in store moving forward.
And to connect the latest Spider-Man with Midsommar, Aster's latest work similarly casts doubt over its own imagery. Midsommar's characters are tripping on mushrooms for a vast majority of the film, which is subtly conveyed through the movement of the nature around them. Grass and flowers pulsate, as if they are breathing, complicating the authenticity of what we are watching. Are we also tripping? The sound design suggests we might be, as volume fluctuates so as to suggest voices in our head or characters at varying distances. Aster constantly pulls us in closer and then pushes us further away. He is simultaneously immersing us in his world, and distancing us from it. The result is beautifully atmospheric and unnerving, but also makes Midsommar a really difficult film to dissect. The formal representation of the drugs in the film asks us to reckon with just how literally we perceive.
And because we, like the movie's westernized protagonists, may be quick to judge the rituals and customs of the Harga, Aster's suggestion of skepticism is crucial. Sure, the Harga do take things too far by bringing in outsiders for sacrifice, but they are clearly a supportive and positive bunch, which is what makes Dani feel so at home by the end of the film. Another director may have taken the opportunity to reaffirm Western values, but Aster, seeing the dread and discomfort in everything, does not operate in such black-and-white.
I've mentioned before that I find Survivor to be one of the most helpful pieces of entertainment in showing us how to watch and interpret media. Ari Aster's films, however, might be a close second. And with Marvel joining Aster in a celebration of skepticism, it's not a stretch to attribute that to our current political climate. The advent of "fake news" and supposedly dishonest media has put our media literacy skills at a premium. So as we continue to interpret the words and images offered by those in power, films like Spider-Man: Far From Home and Midsommar remind us of the deception and manipulation all around us. It's about time we start paying attention ourselves.