Mid(night)sommar

My second viewing of Midsommar not only spanned two evenings and two years, it spanned two decades.

That's right, it was our chosen New Year's Eve viewing after returning from a surprisingly large family festival in neighboring Footscray, which was attended by multiple thousands of people and capped off by fireworks at 9:30.

Fortunately the kids were tuckered out after the 20-minute walk to and from our car, meaning they were asleep less than 15 minutes after we got home, no wild aspirations of making it to midnight.

My wife and I made it to midnight and beyond, staying up past 2 a.m. Most of that was to accommodate the two-hour-and-twenty-eight-minute running time of Ari Aster's latest film.

If you're curious, the alarm on my phone went off right after the point where (SPOILER ALERT) the old people jump off that cliff to their deaths. In fact, we had to be sure we paused it on a reaction shot, rather than a shot of a Harga bringing a large wooden mallet down on the face of the guy with the badly manged leg.

At that point, we turned our attention to the decidedly different task of celebrating the last five minutes of the decade.

We pulled up a live countdown clock on YouTube and ticked off the seconds as you usually do. Goodbye, last decade. Hello, 2020s.

The movie released us from its grip at around 1:40.

It was an appropriate viewing not only for the "mid" in the title on an evening focused around a midnight celebration, but for the fact that it's actually midsummer here, as we live in a bit of a land of the midnight sun, though obviously not to the same extent as they do in Sweden.

As an example, my kids were able to play on the playground adjacent to the festival until just before the fireworks started, as 9:30 was chosen as a time when we could finally be sure it would be dark enough to have the intended effect.

It was an inappropriate viewing to the extent that we usually like to watch something lighter and more fun when we have a New Year's Eve viewing. Past examples include Paul Feig's Spy and, just last year, Holmes & Watson at the drive-in.

But a 99 cent iTunes rental of Midsommar, which had only 12 days left before it expired, convinced my wife that it made for a good candidate, particularly as she had been meaning to see it for some time. It also worked for me, not only because I wanted to see it again, but because this time of year, leading up to the closure of my annual list, usually features a rewatch with my wife of something I really liked from the previous year, to help fix its ultimate position on my list.

At first she admitted she was having doubts about her decision, as the tone of the opening scene -- my favorite segment of the movie -- was too heavy for her, or at least, for this particular scenario. But I told her that was the worst part, not entirely sure if that would be the case for her. As it turns out, it was, as the intensity level stays but is probably leavened by the fact that the rest of the film takes place in daylight. She ended up really liking it, talking only about the things she liked, a difference from our viewing of Hereditary earlier this year.

As you might remember from this post, I had concerns about the rest of the movie, labeling the film (and both of Aster's films, really) a "masterpiece tease." This time I just kind of let myself marvel at the filmmaking, giving Aster a pass on some of the excess running time and diminishing narrative returns as the movie moves along.

Plus it was nice to see that two old people -- not jumping-off-a-cliff old, but feeling old enough -- can stay up well past midnight watching a movie, without even any caffeine in my case. That's a tribute to the quality of the filmmaking for sure.

Happy 2020 to those who have gotten there, and to those gearing up for your own midnight festivities, whether they take place in the midsummer or midwinter, whether they involve pubic hair pies or just your standard champagne and party hats.