

Yet the film establishes its own rhythm and pacing.

It unveils itself unapologetically, as if the filmmaker has no intention of hiding anything from us in the first place (the entire movie is visually depicted almost constantly in the background on walls or tapestries). Midsommar is not a mystery or suspense movie. It is a meditation on human belonging an operatic catharsis played on the strings of emotional dependency a journey both inward and outward, to finally let go of something that was never meant to be. It's about anxiety, fear of abandonment, and moving on. At its core, the film is about a young woman who copes with crippling anxiety rooted in a desperate and fearful need for love as she comes to terms with the end of a relationship. Aster has delivered a psychedelic genre-defying horror fable that wins its audience by creeping into our darkest corners of angst, longing, and loneliness. this encapsulates the mood of Ari Aster's Midsommar. this slight loss of footing, dip in reality, always feeling somewhat displaced and perpetually unsettled. This loss of touch with who we are when the world around us suddenly disappears. Perhaps more importantly, a lack of belonging is when we begin to lose sense of ourselves and who we are.

Belonging fundamentally allows us to form our own sense of identity, establish social connections through community, and provides us with love, attention, security, and purpose. The human brain is not meant to be alone we are evolved to be a part of something. Do you feel held?" One of the most universal and innately human desires is a sense of belonging.
