I live for provocative horror movies—the more beautiful, the more imaginative, and the more messed up, the better. Like so many, I want to be challenged by a horror movie. I want it to make me question why I have specific reactions, why I squirm in my seat, why I cheer when someone meets their deserved bloody end. This the expectation I carry into any movie, including into Midsommar, the latest effort from Ari Aster (Hereditary).
The heat is settling over the country, and so too are the July horror movies creeping onto the big and little screens. This new crop of horror movies is overtaking us all with a cloud of weird VOD releases and an eclectic mix of theatrical releases. To be honest, July horror is a crapshoot every year–for every sumptuously shot arthouse horror film like Midsommer, you have a cheap looking The Strangers rip-off like They’re Inside. For every enigmatic and dread-inducing foreign film like Luz, there’s a survival horror flick about a killer croc during a hurricane (which feels somewhat-opportunistic given all the damn hurricanes recently, Paramount!) But hey, there’s something on this list for everyone!
And I’m going to call July horror a success for no other reason than Critters Attack! is in my life now. I must see it.
release of Midsommar, Ari Aster’s
follow-up feature to last year’s Hereditary,
folk horror is enjoying much deserved time in the spotlight. While the niche
horror subgenre is known to many a horror fan (folk horror is one of my
favorite subgenres), many curious viewers are at a loss when it comes to folk
horror. What is it exactly?
Of course, as many folk horror fans will try to explain, the subgenre is difficult to pin down. Some consider it a subset of religious horror, and while I see and respect that viewpoint, I don’t necessarily agree with that. The two subgenres are related; I see them as distinct. Perhaps folk horror and religious horror are sisters. They both explore man’s fear of his beliefs, of one’s faith being tested, and of watching religion corrupt its practitioners. But folk horror has a particular flavor, a certain aesthetic, which religious horror does not replicate.