MIDSOMMAR: Two wailing screams that bookmark Dani Ardor's quest for love
WARNING: This article contains spoilers for Ari Aster’s MIDSOMMAR.
“Do you feel held by him? Does he feel like home to you?”
Few movies in my life have left me as stunned as the A24-produced, Florence Pugh-powered masterpiece, Midsommar. The 2019 flick, aptly pronounced by Jordan Peele as ‘the most idyllic horror film of all time’, truly offers one of the most unique viewing experiences ever brought to life on screen.
While Peele categorized it as a ‘horror film’, which it predominantly is, the beauty of Aster’s work transcends the label of one. It would be a great injustice to this work of art to contain it in any genre.
That being said, the purpose here isn’t to shed light on what an incredible film it is. Instead, the motive is to fix the spotlight firmly on the film’s protagonist — Dani Ardor — and why she provides one of the most compelling character arcs ever conceptualized. More specifically, why it is one of the most relatable ones at that.
Death in the family
Pugh’s Dani begins the film faced with an insurmountably tragic event that throws her into a seemingly bottomless downward spiral.
She’s unable to contact her sister, Terri Ardor, someone enduring her battles with clinical bipolarity. She calls her partner, Christian (Jack Reynor), in the hope of finding solace in his voice, but fails to receive any comfort and, to make matters worse, Dani gets told she’s ‘overreacting’ by the supposed love of her life.
However, what follows is nothing short of one of the most tragic acts committed by any A24 character to date. Terri is then shown to have committed a double homicide as she poisons their parents using carbon monoxide, shortly before committing suicide herself. Dani, shaken to her very core, once again calls Christian. Only this time, she doesn’t say a word. Not one word.
Instead, the only thing she could muster at that moment is a wailing scream, one that could haunt even the most ardent horror-film goers. She just… screams. No, no, no.
Little did she know, at the time, that she wasn’t on call with someone who regards her even remotely as closely as she does. Christian was shown earlier having a conversation with his friends (and future victims of Hårga) about potentially ending a toxic relationship that they believe has long run its course.
This makes Dani’s scream in that moment even more heartbreaking. It compounds, at least for the viewers, the misery of her situation at the time. She had everything she cared about in life taken away from her in an unexplainable moment, and the one person she hopes to share her trauma with, wants little to do with her. He was only bound to her at that moment due to unfortunate timing.
Dani’s disbelief
Over 90 minutes later into Aster’s remarkably well-crafted and terrifying daylight horror, the viewers are met with a similar moment.
Dani, now crowned May Queen — the winner of the Maypole dance — bears another incident that scars her psyche. She watches her beloved toxic partner, Christian, as he makes love to Hårga native Maja, who chose him as an ideal male to mate with, in the presence of over ten other undressed women sharing her pleasure. Distraught by what she’s just witnessed, Dani runs away from the shed and into her quarters with the aid of seven Harga women.
It is at that moment that Pugh’s character, after everything she’s been through, hits her saturation point.
Dani collapses to the floor and, while hyperventilating amidst a panic attack, lets out a wailing scream, this time under a different pretext. She screams to let go of the immense sorrow she feels at that moment. Her pain transcends any and every social construct around her. She just wanted to scream her pain away, hoping to find catharsis at that moment.
Which is exactly what she found, albeit in a most unlikely manner.
The seven Harga women who were with her at the time begin by surrounding and embracing her, before matching their rhythmic breathing to hers. Dani, appearing both confused and distraught, continues to expel her emotion in that moment.
Their communal screaming grows faster and louder, as they harmonize and empathize with their new May Queen. Their clan was depicted to function similarly to a hive-mind since their introduction into the film, but how they empathized with Dani in this moment was the peak of their affection towards her. This sequence, in my opinion, undeniably remains one of the most laudable representations of human grief and trauma ever put to film.
Quest for communal love
When she let out a wailing scream at the start of the film to Christian, both on the phone and into his shoulders, she may as well have done it into a concrete wall. There was no emotional investment from Christian, a toxic partner, played to near excellence by Reynor, who lacked any sense of empathy.
The second time around, however, it was Reynor’s Christian — who was viewed by Dani as her only source of solace — who threw her off of her psychological edge. For all intents and purposes, Dani has finally been stripped of everything and everyone she could possibly imagine relying upon to share her unimaginable sorrow.
And in that incredibly painful moment, she found something she’s craved since the death of her family. She found love. She found a community. She found empathy. People who aren’t there at that moment due to being bound to her for societal, cosmetic reasons.
It could be argued that the Hårga were manipulating her right from the very moment Dani set foot into their territory. But this moment felt genuine, it felt cathartic. It could even be considered an act of worship. Most of all, it enabled her to come to terms with her trauma at that moment in an unconventional yet relieving manner.
Midsommar has several incredible moments that could be isolated and lauded, but as far as Dani’s character arc is concerned, this is the film’s peak. It could only be compared to another moment, which was Dani’s eerie smile in the dying embers of the film. She watched on as Christian — who by this point was portrayed as the human embodiment of her grief, stuffed into a bear carcass — was set alight in the forbidden temple.
That being said, her devastating, grieving scream in Hårga was the one defining moment in the film for Dani, as she finally felt one with those around her for the first time in forever. The stark contrast it bears with the one she let out at the start of the movie highlights the importance of this community, both literally and metaphorically.
Furthermore, the Midsommar festival in itself — the surreal, gory, Technicolour nature of it — has a visible impact on Dani. The new surroundings coupled with the newfound clarity she’s found in life has allowed her to not only to let go of all the trauma she’s faced, but also to change. By the end of the film, she’s confident, more assertive, and embraces this new version of herself, providing the viewers a stark juxtaposition to the character introduced at the beginning.
The second and final scream symbolises the physical expulsion of all the pain she’s been put through. The perfect end to an arresting study of human nature whilst also serving as a metaphor for struggles in real lives.
Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) asked her when she entered Hårga if she ‘felt held’ or ‘felt at home’ with Christian.
After facing some of the most psychologically scarring months imaginable — losing her beloved family to a double murder/suicide, watching the love of her life indulging in a drug-filled orgy, and fighting to stay afloat in a sea of depression and despair — she finally did.
She found a sense of family and solace, surrounded by a murderous, gory, psychedelic-consuming Scandinavian cult.
Unequivocally the most unique portrayal of trauma and grief on film that I can imagine.
— Sai Teja
Thank you for your time.
P.S. I would like to make a sincere request to anyone out there enduring their own unspoken battles with mental health to seek help should you feel the need for it. People will always be ready to share your trauma, but it begins with you taking the first step.
You are not, and will never be, alone.