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What You Need to Know About Folk Horror Before You See Ari Aster’s ‘Midsommar’

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Agricultural festivals. Nature spirits. Fertility rites. Pagan cults. Human sacrifice. Are these elements of horror? Or something a bit more subtle and complex? There’s a narrative category for stories containing this kind of imagery and vibe: folk horror. And if you don’t know what folk horror is, let me take you by the hand, and lead you to the forest’s edge, or maybe to this field of corn, and show you…some things. Consider this a primer for the horror cinema fan who’s not familiar with the folk horror sub-genre.

After Ari Aster’s iconic debut film Hereditary, horror fans are thrilled and excited about his forthcoming feature Midsommar. Set in Sweden, it appears to contain some of the sort of pagan sacrificial cult elements that Hereditary featured, but in a different cultural context. And yet, Hereditary wasn’t about a pagan cult so much as it hinted at the existence of one. Those subtle hints and fragments made us curious and creeped out, and possibly haunted our dreams and maybe even our waking thoughts (as the most effective horror story should, with just enough information and compelling imagery to stay with us for an unnervingly long time).

And that is more or less how folk horror works: it’s the things that are not quite seen, that are not explicit, that are strangely familiar and yet unknowable, that grip us and terrify us, as if we’re not sure what’s lurking in the shadows, even if we can hear its breath and smell its sweat. Folk horror is sensual and earthy: even its ghosts are somehow corporeal, smelling faintly of ancestral secrets.

There are no hard and fast rules for qualifying what is and isn’t folk horror, but there are a few characteristics that seem to be common. One theme that is central is landscape, and its evocative power. Howard Ingham, author of We Don’t Go Back: A Watcher’s Guide to Folk Horror, puts it this way: “Out in the isolated places unusual superstitions flourish, and these are the places we came from. The old places. Even if the old gods have died, there’s something about these ancient geographies that makes new gods flourish where the old once reigned. The old grounds, lain fallow, are fertile for this sort of thing. But we don’t go back. That way leads to madness.”

The Wicker Man, 1973

Landscape is indeed a powerful presence in this definitive trio of folk horror films: The Witchfinder General (1968), The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971), and The Wicker Man (1973). These three classic works, usually referred to as “the unholy trinity” of folk horror, have other elements in common.

  1. They’re English (English folklore being the source for much of the occult revival literature and culture that found its way to the United States in the 1960s and 1970s).
  2. They portray a belief in animism or paganism, i.e. a divine force imminent in nature.
  3. They put forth ideas of human sacrifice or punishment as ways to appease ancient spirits of the land/location.
  4. There are usually a number of characters who share a belief system that other characters might find superstitious or supernatural; this sets up a dilemma of reliability.
  5. They portray landscape in an aesthetic way (visuals, sound) that feels strange, scary, evocative, “weird” or otherwise unsettling.
  6. They were created in the wake of the second occult revival, when peoples’ curiosity about ancient myths and lore was awakened.

Folk horror as a definitive sub-genre was first mentioned, apparently, by Mark Gatiss in a BBC 4 special from 2010 called “The History of Horror.” Gatiss noted that unholy trinity mentioned above “shared a common obsession with the British landscape, its folklore and superstitions.” Since then, kindled by a growing interest in this fascinating sub-genre, horror fans have been falling all over themselves trying to recommend their darlings as examples of folk horror. Arguments ensue at times, but the field of recommendations is a rich world to be explored.

The 1970s were, of course, a rich time for folk horror: in addition to the unholy trinity, there was The Dunwich Horror (1970), Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970), Walkabout (1971), Wake in Fright (1971), and Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975). Later came Eyes of Fire (1983), and The Company of Wolves (1984). The wonderful rural vampire tale, The Reflecting Skin (1990). The incomparably-influential, low budget fluke, The Blair Witch Project (1999), and the strange, original Wisconsin Death Trip (1999). Consider The Village (2004) and Pan’s Labyrinth (2006). Howard Ingham mentions some earlier films as being very influential as well: Jacques Tourneur’s Night of the Demon (1957), and going way back, Häxan (1922), an influence on The Blair Witch Project filmmakers, as was Cannibal Holocaust (1980), arguably the first “found footage” film.

Haxan, 1922

And, post-2010, we’re now seeing filmmakers who seem to be crafting intentional examples of folk horror. Consider the brilliant Norwegian mockumentary Trollhunter (2010). Consider Kill List (2011), Sightseers (2012) and A Field in England (2013); thank you, Ben Wheatley! Consider Crow (2016), The Ritual (2018) and The Apostle (2018). There have been some television series that have a folk horror vibe also, going back to 1978 with the mini-series of The Dark Secret of Harvest Home, or 1984’s excellent Robin of Sherwood, and more recent examples like Detectorists (2014), Dark (2017), or Requiem (2018). And it’s worth mentioning that Stranger Things, the super popular show that debuted in 2016, replete with many 1980s horror film references, also bears some markers of folk horror.

While Hereditary’s folk horror elements may have been subtle, Midsommar looks to be a sort of folk horror sampler, with every chocolate in the box hiding a delectable, terrifying trope of folk horror. There’s hikers who take an ill-advised path through the woods (The Blair Witch Project, Crow). There’s innocent people being lured into witnessing a pagan ceremony (The Wicker Man, Kill List, The Ritual). There’s consumption of herbal intoxicants (A Field in England, Crow). There is ritualized performance with music (The Wicker Man, Crow, Robin of Sherwood, Kill List). There appears to be ceremonial human sacrifice (seen in most of these films). Aster seems to be attuned to a strong, growing vibe among intelligent horror fans, a hunger for the rich nuances of folk horror, and Midsommar promises a hearty feast.

Why this thrilling sub-genre should be so relevant now is anyone’s guess. Perhaps in looking to a frightening past we can better understand our terrifying present; perhaps we may learn something about ourselves that will carry us forward in uncertain times. Howard Ingham says of post-millennial folk horror: “It is more than nostalgia at work in the rejuvenation of our pagan apple orchards; is it equally the plugging of a definite loss of something of ineffable, intangible importance.”

A24 will release Midsommar on July 3.

Editorials

‘Amityville Karen’ Is a Weak Update on ‘Serial Mom’ [Amityville IP]

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Amityville Karen horror

Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”

A bizarre recurring issue with the Amityville “franchise” is that the films tend to be needlessly complicated. Back in the day, the first sequels moved away from the original film’s religious-themed haunted house storyline in favor of streamlined, easily digestible concepts such as “haunted lamp” or “haunted mirror.”

As the budgets plummeted and indie filmmakers capitalized on the brand’s notoriety, it seems the wrong lessons were learned. Runtimes have ballooned past the 90-minute mark and the narratives are often saggy and unfocused.

Both issues are clearly on display in Amityville Karen (2022), a film that starts off rough, but promising, and ends with a confused whimper.

The promise is embodied by the tinge of self-awareness in Julie Anne Prescott (The Amityville Harvest)’s screenplay, namely the nods to John Waters’ classic 1994 satire, Serial Mom. In that film, Beverly Sutphin (an iconic Kathleen Turner) is a bored, white suburban woman who punished individuals who didn’t adhere to her rigid definition of social norms. What is “Karen” but a contemporary equivalent?

In director/actor Shawn C. Phillips’ film, Karen (Lauren Francesca) is perpetually outraged. In her introductory scenes, she makes derogatory comments about immigrants, calls a female neighbor a whore, and nearly runs over a family blocking her driveway. She’s a broad, albeit familiar persona; in many ways, she’s less of a character than a caricature (the living embodiment of the name/meme).

These early scenes also establish a fairly straightforward plot. Karen is a code enforcement officer with plans to shut down a local winery she has deemed disgusting. They’re preparing for a big wine tasting event, which Karen plans to ruin, but when she steals a bottle of cursed Amityville wine, it activates her murderous rage and goes on a killing spree.

Simple enough, right?

Unfortunately, Amityville Karen spins out of control almost immediately. At nearly every opportunity, Prescott’s screenplay eschews narrative cohesion and simplicity in favour of overly complicated developments and extraneous characters.

Take, for example, the wine tasting event. The film spends an entire day at the winery: first during the day as a band plays, then at a beer tasting (???) that night. Neither of these events are the much touted wine-tasting, however; that is actually a private party happening later at server Troy (James Duval)’s house.

Weirdly though, following Troy’s death, the party’s location is inexplicably moved to Karen’s house for the climax of the film, but the whole event plays like an afterthought and features a litany of characters we have never met before.

This is a recurring issue throughout Amityville Karen, which frequently introduces random characters for a scene or two. Karen is typically absent from these scenes, which makes them feel superfluous and unimportant. When the actress is on screen, the film has an anchor and a narrative drive. The scenes without her, on the other hand, feel bloated and directionless (blame editor Will Collazo Jr., who allows these moments to play out interminably).

Compounding the issue is that the majority of the actors are non-professionals and these scenes play like poorly performed improv. The result is long, dull stretches that features bad actors talking over each other, repeating the same dialogue, and generally doing nothing to advance the narrative or develop the characters.

While Karen is one-note and histrionic throughout the film, at least there’s a game willingness to Francesca’s performance. It feels appropriately campy, though as the film progresses, it becomes less and less clear if Amityville Karen is actually in on the joke.

Like Amityville Cop before it, there are legit moments of self-awareness (the Serial Mom references), but it’s never certain how much of this is intentional. Take, for example, Karen’s glaringly obvious wig: it unconvincingly fails to conceal Francesca’s dark hair in the back, but is that on purpose or is it a technical error?

Ultimately there’s very little to recommend about Amityville Karen. Despite the game performance by its lead and the gentle homages to Serial Mom’s prank call and white shoes after Labor Day jokes, the never-ending improv scenes by non-professional actors, the bloated screenplay, and the jittery direction by Phillips doom the production.

Clocking in at an insufferable 100 minutes, Amityville Karen ranks among the worst of the “franchise,” coming in just above Phillips’ other entry, Amityville Hex.

Amityville Karen

The Amityville IP Awards go to…

  • Favorite Subplot: In the afternoon event, there’s a self-proclaimed “hot boy summer” band consisting of burly, bare-chested men who play instruments that don’t make sound (for real, there’s no audio of their music). There’s also a scheming manager who is skimming money off the top, but that’s not as funny.
  • Least Favorite Subplot: For reasons that don’t make any sense, the winery is also hosting a beer tasting which means there are multiple scenes of bartender Alex (Phillips) hoping to bring in women, mistakenly conflating a pint of beer with a “flight,” and goading never before seen characters to chug. One of them describes the beer as such: “It looks like a vampire menstruating in a cup” (it’s a gold-colored IPA for the record, so…no).
  • Amityville Connection: The rationale for Karen’s killing spree is attributed to Amityville wine, whose crop was planted on cursed land. This is explained by vino groupie Annie (Jennifer Nangle) to band groupie Bianca (Lilith Stabs). It’s a lot of nonsense, but it is kind of fun when Annie claims to “taste the damnation in every sip.”
  • Neverending Story: The film ends with an exhaustive FIVE MINUTE montage of Phillips’ friends posing as reporters in front of terrible green screen discussing the “killer Karen” story. My kingdom for Amityville’s regular reporter Peter Sommers (John R. Walker) to return!
  • Best Line 1: Winery owner Dallas (Derek K. Long), describing Karen: “She’s like a walking constipation with a hemorrhoid”
  • Best Line 2: Karen, when a half-naked, bleeding woman emerges from her closet: “Is this a dream? This dream is offensive! Stop being naked!”
  • Best Line 3: Troy, upset that Karen may cancel the wine tasting at his house: “I sanded that deck for days. You don’t just sand a deck for days and then let someone shit on it!”
  • Worst Death: Karen kills a Pool Boy (Dustin Clingan) after pushing his head under water for literally 1 second, then screeches “This is for putting leaves on my plants!”
  • Least Clear Death(s): The bodies of a phone salesman and a barista are seen in Karen’s closet and bathroom, though how she killed them are completely unclear
  • Best Death: Troy is stabbed in the back of the neck with a bottle opener, which Karen proceeds to crank
  • Wannabe Lynch: After drinking the wine, Karen is confronted in her home by Barnaby (Carl Solomon) who makes her sign a crude, hand drawn blood contract and informs her that her belly is “pregnant from the juices of his grapes.” Phillips films Barnaby like a cross between the unhoused man in Mulholland Drive and the Mystery Man in Lost Highway. It’s interesting, even if the character makes absolutely no sense.
  • Single Image Summary: At one point, a random man emerges from the shower in a towel and excitedly poops himself. This sequence perfectly encapsulates the experience of watching Amityville Karen.
  • Pray for Joe: Many of these folks will be back in Amityville Shark House and Amityville Webcam, so we’re not out of the woods yet…

Next time: let’s hope Christmas comes early with 2022’s Amityville Christmas Vacation. It was the winner of Fangoria’s Best Amityville award, after all!

Amityville Karen movie

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