Hereditary: A Trilogy of Suffering
By: Keaton Marcus
Ari Aster’s Hereditary. Likely one of the greatest films ever made, and alongside Midsommar, the greatest horror film of all-time. A masterpiece so disturbing, so traumatizing to both its characters and the viewer, that it makes you beg for it to end. You feel like you’re choking for a long, slow and devastating amount of time, unable to breathe, eyes stuck to the screen. It holds you in a position the entire running time, making you witness every sickening scene, every bit of brutal violence, and every moment of complex screenwriting and visual subtext. It transcends, it breaks boundaries…For performances and the genre. Now let’s get into it.
A MASTERFUL TRANSCENDATION:
What’s so special about this film is the fact that it isn’t mainly a horror movie, but rather a drama about grief that happens to have some seriously horrific stuff to it. The biggest issue I have with a lot of horror films today is they are so one-note, so enveloped in trying to jump-scare the viewers with some loud noises and gimmicks. It also restrains a script from becoming layered and meaningful, which is what Hereditary has achieved. It isn’t afraid to cross borders between genres of horror, drama, and even dark comedy at times. It breaks the cliche, another aspect that normally drowns films of this kind easily. The tropes are rarely there, and if one is present, it is at the very least presented in a unique and clever way. For example, this movie has an already set formula considering the age of true and raw originality has been lost in modern cinema. It’s all about breathing new life into the genre whole using a similar framework, a template if you will. Readers may be asking how these tropes are presented in a new way, and it’s really through Charlie. She’s the typically quiet outsider with an odd and unsettling tick of clicking her tongue. With no actual friends or companions, I would say her character is more or less representative of horror cliches. But what does Aster do to expel them? He kills her off within the first 40 minutes. Brutally, I may add. It’s almost as if her head is the tropes getting smashed by a pole. But wait…There’s more. To add to the grief aspect, there is also a supernatural one. Yes, it’s been done a million times before in this genre, with more poor attempts than good ones, but Aster manages to make likely the greatest one I have seen thus far. Remember how in all the ghost films, or anything with otherworldy creatures, that the characters accept it like it’s obvious, and the viewers do to? Here, it slowly but surely wraps tight around the audience, crushing any hope or life that they have for this family in the movie. It creeps and spreads like a virus, coming as a surprise even if we all knew it was there the whole time.
FEAR AND DREAD:
One of the most prominent aspects worthy of discussion in this movie is the overwhelming and intruding sense of fear that both the characters and the viewers get throughout. It is mostly present between the constant scenes with Annie (Toni Collette) and Peter (Alex Wolff) pointing fingers at each other for Charlie’s untimely and accidental death. It’s the fear of getting blamed. The dread of abandonment. The doom of something horrible happening at any given moment. Overall, this film carries an overarching sense of guilt which both figuratively and literally destroys the main characters while emotionally breaking the audience. This aspect doesn’t solely play a part in the dialogue, however, it is also extremely present in the visuals, atmosphere and cinematography. It’s a gorgeously and horribly visceral horror that transcends even the highest and weirdest expectations for where this film is heading. Facial expressions, framing, screams and shot choices create a disconcerting sense of anxiety as your heart rate begins to rise in each waking moment. It’s honestly a flawless combination of guilt, dread and uncertainty.
GUILT (THE FEAR OF BEING BLAMED)
Guilt. We all loathe to have someone blame us for anything, especially if it’s something we didn’t do. In this case, Peter and Annie break each other down with fierce and perturbing arguments about who should be blamed for Charlie’s death. Obviously, considering Peter’s sheer teenage rashness, he is likely the one to lay the blame on, but in his guilt and fear of being demonized, he desperately tries to put the weight on his mother’s shoulders. Again, this aspect of fear is primarily projected through Peter and how he reacts to tragedies. Fitting of his character, he generally tries to avoid being blamed and points fingers at other people in desperation. He always tries to brush off the grief and depression he so clearly needs help with. It’s an uncompromising and brutal relationship with his mind in which he’s fighting a battle impossible to win. The incredible realism portrayed with each mannerism of Peter, especially the first time we see him after Charlie’s death standing behind a translucent door in a troubling posture. His avoidance reaction is prominent within several scenes, and because of this, it gives off the sense that he’s just worrying about existing. He doesn’t show struggle or pain through actions, but with avoiding. It’s possibly one of the most human things we all do. These moments are showcased on-screen with lifeless gazes that throw us into a void of melancholic decline as audiences are affected the exact same way Peter is.
AMBIGUITY (THE FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN)
Uncertainty. Unpredictability. Ambiguity. It’s the fear of what you don’t know, of what you cannot predict. Although it isn’t shown with terrifying monsters or unsettling imagery, it is more behind the scenes, a thing so scary that no one will see it coming. Completely different to my analyzation of guilt in the film, we are seeing from the perspective of an entirely new character who has a whole other personality than Peter. This is more through Annie, a character who was set up with her instability, temper issues and sudden outbursts at her family. Her vulnerability in tough situations is what gives depth to her character, not avoidance or passiveness. She makes up for her lack of pale, boring stares with unpredictable moments of expressing grief through emotion. Her relationship with Joan, a seemingly innocent woman who she met at therapy meetings who lost her son, is the best example of this. It’s so one-sided and abusive, further disconnecting and alienating Annie from her family. Before you conclude that Annie’s devastation is simply another trope of a character with anger issues, think about this. Whenever she has a moment of vexation or exasperation, they form some deep connection with another character, whether it be Joan, Pete or her husband. Although there are still scenes filled with silence and passivity, like when Annie receives the mail or when Steve finds out that she’s re-creating Charlie’s death through miniatures, her reactions are generally emoted with expressiveness.
uNEASE (THE FEAR OF WHAT’S TO COME)
This more relates to the cultish, supernatural aspect of the movie, and eventually that batshit crazy ending that had audiences more divided on then the rest of the movie. Unease in this film is principally the fear of the future. There’s such a massive sense of anxiety throughout this entire thing, and what’s so impressive about it is the fact that a lot of it takes place during the daytime. In horror movies, I’m always hoping for a nice, calm scene in the daylight away from darker moments, or breaks between the scares. In Hereditary, there are moments in the day, but they are far from breaks. In fact, I would argue that they are sometimes more stress-inducing than the ones in the dark. Yes, even more than the weird, naked and old cultists staring at Peter at the end. As it culminates to its horribly misunderstood finale, it becomes an epic, beautiful trilogy of emotions. Passivity, dissonance and emptiness with Peter. Anger and devastation with Annie. The internal, if quiet struggle with Steve. Each character has their own unique personalities and it finally concludes flawlessly at the end. It all coalesces into one formation of pain and depression, a completion of a masterful study. This isn’t a horror film, it’s an analysis on three reactions to horror.