A wise co-worker once told me “What you want when you’re 20, vs what you want when you’re 30, is completely different.''
I was 21 at the time, just recently free from pubescent acne- and that statement meant nothing.
Timing can be comical. Since I do not rely on an all knowing deity to explain complex coincidences, those moments make me stop and ponder why little ironies found their way to me. I am talking about the simplest foreshadowing- I saw no faces in my toast, heard no voices from the clouds, felt no chilling signals… I simply went to a movie.
A movie I’d been anticipating- the director Ari Aster, is quickly becoming the Wes Anderson of horror. Unsure of what to expect in his new film, Midsommar, I prepared for another dark allegory that I could grapple with the meaning of for weeks, like his last film, Hereditary. It was so much more, as though the movie was rolling only for me, formulated specifically from my own life’s circumstances.
I took my one and only friend who enjoys scary movies, smoked a quick doobie, and hoped I hadn’t over-hyped my expectations.
I’m not talking about the movie in much context, because the story is very simple and should be enjoyed with as little plot deconstruction as possible. To sum it up though- it’s about a bad relationship in a foreign place, moreover, it is the ultimate exhibition of female empowerment.
Midsommar is not a scary movie, unless fear derives from tripping on shrooms in a Swedish meadow, and following strict orders not to piss on a sacred tree stump- it is as Ari Aster describes, a fairytale. Perhaps that is why I clung to it, and understood the story on such an intimate level. A woman who tried so hard to keep people happy, never comprehending her own strength, only to become the God damned May Queen (a colorfully big deal in this village) and find the power to stomp out the bullshit that caused her insecurities and fear.
Let’s just say the burning bear is very obvious symbolism for her liberation and new life. As I begin a new chapter, I feel all of the elements of the film’s fictional ancient traditions. I am burning the bear down in a temple full of bad energy that will no longer haunt me. I have a village of support from multitudes of women in my life- building me up to be fearless in a terrifying transition.
I have a new home, a new outlook, a new goal. What was a determination to make life look traditionally functional to others, is now a complete rebellion of that idyllic fraud. One income and go back to college? OK. 2900 square feet to 700? Sure. Become my own personal hero and show my son what a woman is capable of when she is untethered? Absolutely. Dreaming up my next 5 years, it’s simplicity, progress, independence and conquering the fear that I need someone to lean on. I have torched the bear, smiling as it fell to ashes and with my crown of flowers, I will rule my own life with the same clarity as the heroine in this film. Long live the May Queen.