‘Midsommar’s Ending and the Cathartic Fires of Freedom [Matriarchy Rising]
Few films in the past decade have had such polarizing endings as Midsommar. Ari Aster’s highly anticipated sophomore film premiered in 2019 to generally positive reviews and heated discourse about its controversial conclusion. The story follows Dani (Florence Pugh), a young grad student who travels with her boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor) and his three friends to a remote commune in Sweden for their 90 Years Feast and Midsommar celebration.
Led by a woman named Siv (Gunnel Fred), the community seems welcoming at first. But it soon becomes clear that the Americans have been brought to Sweden as human sacrifices to the cult’s pagan gods. Crowned the new May Queen, Dani must choose the ninth and final sacrifice. Will it be one of the Hårga or her toxic boyfriend? Dani chooses Christian and he burns with the other sacrifices as she watches from the fields. As the patriarchal remnants of her old life crumble, she smiles for the first time. She’s finally free and held by a community that truly values her.
Dani’s Choice
But not all viewers interpret Midsommar ending in this way. Many see Dani’s situation as a sunny bait and switch, trading one form of manipulation for another. And they may be right. But it’s difficult not to feel a sense of catharsis as she watches the flames. Whether or not Aster’s film is pro-matriarchy is up for debate, but its anti-patriarchy message is undeniable.
When Dani makes her choice, she does not just reject Christian. She rejects the male-dominated constructs of her former life and is born anew in a matriarchy that celebrates women for their life-giving power. The Hårga is a matriarchy through and through. Led by a woman, they are committed to sharing everything, including their emotions.
Finding Comfort In Community
Dani’s group is welcomed to the festival by Siv as she speaks from a circle of men and women, none of them having any more or less prominence in the group. The congregation gathers around her, not sitting in defined rows or pews but simply wandering up to the circle. When they eat, there are honored guests who sit at the head of the table. But otherwise, there is no hierarchy. They simply gather as they are. Everyone in the commune is equally important and necessary for its survival.
It’s a welcome message to Dani who feels like a burden among her own group. Still reeling from an unthinkable tragedy, Dani constantly hides her pain, literally running away to cry, scream, or wail in private. Christian likely stays with her out of a sense of obligation, but it’s clear he is unhappy. Dani has nowhere to go with her grief and must swallow her sorrow rather than risk pushing Christian away. When their mutual friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) asks her if she feels held by Christian, does he feel like home, her unspoken answer is no. As the film goes on, the Hårga will offer her the love and support she’s been longing for.
Midsommar’s Patriarchal Figures
Christian’s friends Mark (Will Poulter) and Josh (William Jackson Harper) are no better, each representing an oppressive wing of the patriarchy. With his constant search for attractive women and cultural obliviousness, Mark represents the misogyny women face every day. His “joke” about Christian missing an opportunity to get their waitress pregnant reveals his disdain for Dani and other women. Josh represents the structures of a patriarchal society built to contain uncomfortable female emotions. He is kind but cold to Dani, offering her sleeping pills, but never bothering to ask how she’s feeling. When violating the sacred text and space of the cult, he shows that he does not respect boundaries; he’ll destroy something he does not understand to serve his own agenda.
And Christian represents just what his name refers to. A patriarchal religion that tells women they must behave in a certain way to keep their place in a male-dominated society. The cult sacrifices nine. But the real sacrifice is made by Dani, who cuts these toxic men out of her life regardless of the cost.
In addition to the female leader, the Hårga choose a May Queen to bless their harvest. After Dani wins the dance around the Maypole, they carry her through the community. She sits at the head of the table and the entire community looks to her to guide their actions. When blessing the crops, she is driven through the fields in a carriage drawn by women. Another female leader guides her in saying the traditional words thought to ensure a bountiful harvest for the next 90 years. Adorned with flowers, Dani is a symbol of life-giving power and fertility, qualities valued above all else among the Hårga. Christian does not celebrate her coronation, instead sulking because he is no longer the center of attention.
Christian’s Experience in Midsommar
While Dani is being honored, Christian experiences another aspect of the commune’s devotion to fertility. A young woman named Maja (Isabelle Grill) has noticed him and hopes he will help her produce a baby. This is a decision not made lightly. Maja has consulted the elders who have approved her for sex and deemed Christian a good astrological match. Siv explains this all to Christian, making the stakes of the relationship very clear. He is clearly interested in Maja and sneaks off for what he believes will be an arranged tryst. Opinions vary about Christian’s capacity to give consent considering the fact that he is given psychedelic tea. But he clearly makes the choice to cheat on Dani regardless of the specifics and enters into the relationship of his own will. Part of his decision likely comes from wanting a woman to give him the attention Dani has now withdrawn.
The encounter is not at all what he is expecting. Maja lies on a bed of spring flowers, naked and waiting for him. She has fully consented and is excited yet nervous for her first time. A group of naked women surround her, all singing and chanting their support. While they have sex, she reaches up to one of the women who look down at her with loving eyes. This woman kneels down next to the couple and takes her hand, giving her moral support through this life-changing event.
Sexual Experience As Communal
A stunned Christian doesn’t quite know what to do, but he keeps going. Maja begins to moan and the women mimic her sounds, now vocalizing their emotional support. One woman even goes behind Christian and begins to guide his thrusts, literally pushing him toward climax. He does and then quickly withdraws. Maja begins to roll around and instantly tells the older woman that she can feel the baby. She is excited about the prospect of becoming pregnant. Christian has been completely forgotten, a bitter irony considering Mark’s suggestion that he sleeps with the waitress. He runs from the room and the women don’t even acknowledge his departure. It was never about him. The entire encounter is designed for Maja’s pleasure and with the explicit goal of producing a baby.
It’s an intensely moving scene to watch in the weeks following the overturn of Roe v. Wade. Western culture is used to valuing a man’s pleasure over everything else. Those with uteruses are merely vessels, wombs to impregnate, or vaginas designed to give pleasure. But here, Christian is the forgotten one. They need him only for what his penis can provide. This isn’t about cultivating a relationship or catering to his feelings. They only want his semen to make a baby.
The Question of Consent in Midsommar
There is a valid discussion to be had about Christian’s consent in Midsommar. But many who pose the question rarely seem concerned about women who find themselves pregnant after a sexual assault. They are the ones who view a fetus’s rights as more important than a woman’s. They see no irony in their concern for this fictional character and the lack of concern for real people with uteruses all over the world. I will care about Christian when I gain back the right to choose what happens to my body after sex. Until then, he can deal with the consequences just like I’ve been forced to.
The Hårga’s support of Maja is remarkable. After the encounter, she is pictured in a red-lined dress, a striking change from her previous white linen. She wears bright red lipstick, seeming to mark her as a sexual being, an honored member of the community. She is without a partner because the group is her partner. They will help her and support her throughout her pregnancy. She has no doubt helped and supported those who came before her.
Maja has chosen this moment to bring life into the world, and her community is fully supportive of her decision. Rather than wear a scarlet letter, she wears her sexual desire proudly and is honored by her community. This stands in sharp contrast to our patriarchal culture which values female purity above all else. Maja is not called a slut. She is not shunned or shamed; she is celebrated for making an important choice about her body.
But Then There’s Dani’s Perspective
Dani’s reaction to this affair is not quite so joyous. She is devastated to learn of Christian’s infidelity and retreats from the locked door, visibly upset. A group of Hårga women quickly gather her up and move her to their communal sleeping quarters. Dani runs to her bed just like she’s used to doing with Christian. She wants to hide her face with the shame of her emotions. But the women won’t let her. They move her to the floor, lift her face, and meet her eyes with theirs as they surround her with love. She finally lets go of years worth of pain, screaming and wailing as her grief flows out of her.
Rather than recoil or turn away, the women join her. They don’t know the specifics of why she is upset, but they don’t need to. They only know that she is hurting and they respond by validating her pain. Throughout the film, Dani has run away the second she feels a wave of grief wash over her. She has repressed her pain for so long that she doesn’t even believe she deserves to feel it. But the women of the Hårga reject this notion. They not only give Dani permission to feel her emotions, but they join her in them. After years of gaslighting first at Christian’s hands and then by a male-dominated society, she is finally allowed to openly grieve.
Midsommar‘s Divisive Ending
The ending of Midsommar is notorious for differing opinions on what Dani should do. The shock of Christian’s betrayal seems to have opened up a huge well of pain and resentment and she chooses him to burn. The Hårga sews Christian into a bear’s carcass and places him in the yellow building before it is lit with a fire that consumes him. Dani is at first upset, likely sad to let go of the man she believed would be her future. But as the building begins to crumble, Dani’s feelings change.
She watches as the structure of her old life burns and she begins to smile. It’s a life filled with the pain she’s been taught to repress, emotions she was made to believe she shouldn’t feel. The Hårga offers her another life. It’s true that we don’t know what the next day will bring. But they have given her intense catharsis and allowed her to release a massive amount of pain. They’ve shown her what true emotional support can look like.
Dani’s Rage in Midsommar Reflect The Rage of Those With Uteruses
It’s difficult to watch Midsommar and not smile right along with Dani, especially right now. Life inside the US can feel like a relationship with Christian. We are told that our number one responsibility is to create children and to provide pleasure for men. When they hurt us or abuse us, our pain is given lip service but little else. For centuries, men have been taking advantage of people with vaginas and uteruses. They lock us out of power, then pass laws governing our choices. Yes, the Hårga is a murderous cult that chooses people for human sacrifice. But how is that any worse than a society that’s deemed the lives of more than half of its citizens expendable?
Christian, Josh, and Mark may be victims and their deaths are tragic, but they come from a world that would let Maja die if complications of her pregnancy became life-threatening. How is their ritualistic murder any different than the constant dance we do of ignoring sexual assault? We pretend to listen then find a way to blame survivors for what happened and shame them for coming forward. That is our ritual. A systematic way of reducing women to bodies in support of a white, straight, cis, male ruling class that continues to operate with no consequences. How is that any different from using the bodies of these men to bless a harvest that will nourish the community for decades?
Dani’s smile is contagious, even more so after a lifetime of being told that our rights don’t matter. Dani gets a chance to be valued on her own terms. The yellow building is the remnants of a patriarchal system that has been abusing her for her entire life. Let it fucking burn.
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