Looking for a psychological horror film that steers clear of cheap jump scares and over-the-top gore? Then don’t miss the next edition of Cinema Unfiltered! On Saturday, June 21, the longest day of the year, we’re screening Midsommar by director Ari Aster. A haunting nightmare that unfolds entirely in the light of day.
What makes Midsommar so unsettling is not just what you see, but how you see it. The film takes place almost entirely in dazzling daylight, a rarity in the horror genre, which usually relies on darkness to evoke fear. Director Ari Aster flips that convention on its head. Instead of shadows, we get clarity; instead of blood-red filters, we see a world drenched in soft pastels: white linen dresses, blooming flower fields, and sunlit wooden structures. But it’s precisely this aesthetic that heightens the discomfort. The harsh daylight hides nothing, everything is exposed and inescapable. The pastels suggest innocence and harmony, but ultimately serve as the backdrop for rituals that are brutal and irreversible.
In an interview, Aster explained: “I wanted to do something that challenged the conventions of horror. By setting the film almost entirely in daylight, you get a different kind of tension than what comes from the usual darkness and shadows. The light forces you to confront everything head-on, and that’s what makes it scarier.”
The film’s striking use of light and color isn’t just a stylistic choice, it forms the foundation of a story filled with symbolism and deeper meaning. Throughout the film, you’ll find visual references: from the cyclical rhythm of the seasons to elements of classical painting and pagan tradition. The flower crowns and traditional Swedish folk motifs are more than just beautiful imagery, they mirror the gradual transformation of the main character Dani (played by Florence Pugh). At the start, she is completely consumed by grief, but as the story unfolds, she experiences an unsettling kind of release. Her sorrow slowly morphs into something else: a sense of belonging, power, and ultimately surrender to a new, and horrifying, community.
The film’s focus on trauma and transformation fits seamlessly with the recurring theme in Ari Aster’s body of work: the devastating impact of loss. Aster is known for his deep interest in grief and emotional trauma. In both Hereditary and Midsommar, loss doesn’t linger in the background, it drives the entire narrative. Even his student film The Strange Thing About the Johnsons (2011) tackles taboos within intimate relationships. With Beau Is Afraid (2023), his most recent film, Aster leans into absurdism, but his fascination with the human psyche remains as present as ever.
Ready to experience this intense psychological horror on the big screen? Join us on June 21 at Cinema Unfiltered.
