I don’t think Midsommar scared me as much as it unsettled me.
It’s one of those movies that feels beautiful and wrong at the same time. Every frame is covered in flowers and sunlight and open skies, yet the entire film feels like a nightmare you can’t wake up from because it never actually gets dark.
Going into it, I expected a horror movie about a cult. What I got was a story about grief.
About loneliness.
About how dangerous it can be to need somewhere to belong. The thing that stayed with me most wasn’t even the violence. It was watching someone carry so much pain while being surrounded by people who either couldn’t see it or didn’t know what to do with it. There were moments that felt almost painfully familiar, that feeling of wanting someone to understand what you’re carrying and realizing they’re standing miles away from you emotionally.
The commune is fascinating because they don’t feel evil in the traditional sense. Everything they do feels natural to them. They have rituals, traditions, community, shared emotion. They cry together. They celebrate together. They grieve together. In a strange way, they offer exactly what the outside world wasn’t offering.
And that’s what makes the film so uncomfortable. Because beneath all the horror is a question I couldn’t stop thinking about:
How much would someone overlook if it meant finally feeling seen?
Visually, it’s stunning. The flowers, the dresses, the endless daylight, the strange dreamlike imagery. At times it felt like I was watching a fairy tale that had gone rotten from the inside out. Beautiful on the surface. Something else underneath.
By the end, I wasn’t horrified so much as hypnotized.
The final scenes left me with that weird feeling great horror sometimes creates where you don’t know whether to feel relieved, devastated, or strangely at peace.
Midsommar feels like a folk tale whispered through a flower crown. A story about grief disguised as horror. A sunlit nightmare about belonging, loneliness, and the terrifying comfort of finding a place that says, “we understand.”
★★★★★
Like wandering into the most beautiful meadow you’ve ever seen and slowly realizing nobody there intends to let you leave. 🌼