Hereditary

I watched Hereditary a week ago. Between then and now, I've watched at least four other movies, but the only one I can think of is Hereditary. Holy shit, this movie is INSANE! I can't stop thinking about it, so the only logical thing for me to do is pass this curse on to you all by writing a blog post at 1 am. (Yeah, I know, another film. You know what, I'm a scholar now and I do what I want so don't @ me, Karen *dramatic eye roll*).

Hereditary is so fucking hard to describe without giving it completely away. Ari Aster, the director, was kind of a nobody. He's only directed two other films (I haven't heard of them and, clearly, I am a true connoisseur of film so I know everybody who's anybody around here) but Hereditary seems to be his most notable work. Aster clearly enjoys making movies with that creepy, Twin Peaks/ Lost vibe where something isn't quite right, but it's not really horror. You know that feeling you got when the guys on Lost found the bunker? Imagine that but for two straight hours and then you've basically got Hereditary (except for the last like twenty minutes where shit REALLY goes down).

Hereditary starts off making you think that you're watching a horror movie that's fairly typical. Grandma with bad relationship to her daughter dies, daughter is sad, grandma haunts daughter through daughter's creepy ass kid, the end. Except, this time, the grandma doesn't haunt the daughter. Instead, the daughter's daughter is killed in a horrific accident that decapitates her (Also, I could be wrong about this, but I'm pretty sure hitting your head on a pole while going 90 miles an hour won't decapitate you. I feel like your head would explode, but whatever that doesn't matter. It's a horror movie, stop looking for accuracy, nerd.) For a little while longer, Aster lets you relax. He eases you in slowly. Suddenly, the movie isn't a horror movie, it's a heartbreaking tale of a family being torn apart by two horrific deaths and a mother who just can't cope with all the pain and all the pressure. She's literally falling to pieces: her marriage is falling apart, her son killed her daughter, her mother and her daughter are dead. I'm not going to lie, I bawled during this part. Holy shit, it is heart-wrenching! You feel so bad for this poor woman who is just really, really fucked and has nowhere to turn to!

Then, the movie gets a REALLY strong Rosemary's Baby vibe. Suddenly, the daughter learns she can contact her mother and daughter from beyond the grave, which leads to this whole weird ordeal where she looks into her mother's past and finds out that her mom is part of this weird satanist cult and her son is possessed by the third prince of hell. Things get weird, and then there's an incredible scene where she risks her life for her children. In this scene, she's wearing a bathrobe and holding out her daughter's notebook, filled with creepy drawings of her brother's mutilated face. She has to destroy the book, but destroying the book will destroy her, so she begs her husband to throw the book into the fire. This scene is so incredible, so powerful. She's literally allowing herself to be burned alive in order to save her son, despite the fact that he caused the death of his sister (and he's a little shit but whatever). I've never seen someone beg so profusely or sincerely before than I did in this scene. Toni Collete's facial expressions seemed so sincere, so profoundly anguished and resolute. She deserves a thousand awards for her performance, holy shit. And then, her husband catches on fire.

This is where things get weird. Honestly, I'm not even sure that I can explain the plot from here on out. So much shit happens, and everything changes so quickly! I will say, I saw this movie alone in an empty theater, and I don't think I've ever run out of a theater in a blind panic. I could barely drive home, I literally had to call like three separate people to take my mind off of the horrific stuff I just saw go down. The content wasn't even that scary, there was just this incredible moment where the camera zooms in on the son, Alex Wolff, and it's just his eyes bouncing back and forth, a terrified expression on his face, while someone explains what's just happened and decaying, decapitated bodies bow down around him as if they were alive. I never get scared at horror movies, but this one had me running for the hills.

There's something about the way Aster sucks you in. He makes you think it's a regular horror film, then you think it's just a really sad and heartbreaking story, and then, you're absolutely terrified for your life. Seriously, the horror comes out of nowhere. My favorite part of this film is the question it asks about the way we handle grief. IN this family, no one is able to talk to each other about how they are feeling. No one cries in front of each other, no one holds anyone, there is no comforting, no love, just three individuals pretending everything is fine and normal. The only time they begin to discuss the goings-on, it quickly devolves into a screaming match. It's an interesting commentary on American society, particularly on how (primarily through the invention of things like Instagram) we are constantly trying to pretend everything is absolutely fine. Everything is normal, nothing is wrong, we all live perfect little Stepford Wife lives. Aster sheds light on this concept by showing the mother spin out of control. She can't speak to her husband, which ruins her marriage. She can't speak to her son, so she quietly resents him (leading to a dream sequence where she reveals that she never even wanted to have him, that he was a mistake, and then she kills him), and finally, she falls into insanity. The other fascinating thing about this movie is the way it begins. The mother creates miniatures of things. She has a tiny hospice, a tiny house identical to hers, a tiny crime scene from where her daughter was killed, everything. The movie begins with the miniature house and zooms into the son's bedroom. The entire film occurs inside of this dollhouse, despite the fact that it is never mentioned again. Before I go on with this, listen to Melanie Martinez's song Dollhouse. This song is all about creating a miniature life that is perfect so that no one knows the horrific pains being felt by the "dolls" in the house. Essentially, it furthers this idea of an Instagram life where nothing is ever wrong. I think that's why Aster included this. His movie is about a family in shambles because they never confronted the real ghost in the house. They never confronted the grandmother, they never confronted their grief and pain and misery, so instead, they fell. While they fell apart, they kept going around like everything was fine, everything was entirely normal.

This is an incredible movie, but be warned. You, too, will be haunted by it. You will try to go about your normal life and not confront the unsettled feeling it will leave you with, but eventually (just like the characters in this film) you will have to face it, and you'll have to decide if you hated it or loved it. Honestly, I'm not going to rate this one. I have no idea how I feel about it. I think I love it, but also I hate it and I never want to see it again, so we'll come back to this and see how it goes.

Donnie Darko

Hey everyone!

It's been a long time since I've last posted, but no one actually reads this blog, so does it really matter? Today I want to talk about Donnie Darko. I know it's not a book, but this is my blog and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
I literally just finished Donnie Darko. Like three seconds ago. This is one of the greatest movies I've ever seen, and I really want to ramble on a little about an interesting motif I found in the movie. In Donnie Darko, Donnie is portrayed as something like Christ. Donnie punishes the bad (lighting Cunnigham's house on fire), has apostles that ultimately abandon him (remember the scene where his two friends run away before Donnie and Gretchen are about to be beat up by the school bullies), and fights off against Satan (being Frank). Donnie also has extraordinary abilities, as demonstrated by his ability to see the motion of an object before that motion has actually occurred. The most glaringly obvious moment occurs when Donnie leaves the theater to go set Cunnigham's house on fire. In an incredibly brilliant scene, the camera pans up to read the marque above Donnie's head. The marquee reads "The Last Temptation of Christ." Directly after this is shown, Donnie follows Frank's last order and burns down Cunnigham's house.
However, Donnie is not fully a Christ character. Part of this is shown in the scene when Donnie is faced with a temptation by Frank (Satan) but does not resist. Unlike Christ, Donnie follows every order given by Frank. Why? Additionally, Frank is not an altogether evil character. Donnie believes that he is going to kill everyone, but we see that Donnie actually kills him before he is able to harm anyone else. Sure, he killed Gretchen, but that was entirely on accident. Ultimately, Donnie does crucify himself to save the world, but he never actually comes back.
So where does that leave us? We have a Christ figure who isn't Christ, Satan who isn't Satan, a plot that is so deliciously twisted, and the sudden desire to rewatch again and again and again in the hopes that some ounce of sense might be found. Also, did any of this really even happen? Was Donnie delusional? This is the kind of movie you could sit and ponder for hours and debate it to death, but there isn't really an answer.
This movie deserves all the pizza.