The late 2010s saw the birth of a new sub-genre of horror that would reach the masses in a way rarely seen before. Far from the societal outrage of the video nasties, this new wave that has since come to be dubbed ‘elevated horror’ has firmly brought horror out from the shadows and into the mainstream.
The likes of Jordan Peele and Robert Eggers are synonymous with this new wave of horror film which has placed the genre firmly in the spotlight, giving it the long overdue recognition and acclaim it deserves. Paving the way along with the aforementioned is director Ari Aster – who firmly cemented his place in the industry with his debut ‘Hereditary’ in 2018.
Utilising emotion as a core theme of his work in a way that plays out as feeling tangibly like a corporeal monster, Aster’s work delves into the horror that lies within. Love or hate his films, something about Aster’s work lingers. From his compellingly flipped perspective short ‘The Strange Thing About The Johnsons’ to his alternative breakup movie Midsommar, Aster manages to build a complex world that challenges thinking and circumvents expectation.
Despite the minimal detail circulated about Hereditary prior to its release, it was clear from the initial buzz that this was going to be something special, in a way no one could quite put their finger on. Though not new to genre cinema, having of course starred in M. Night Shyamalan’s ‘Sixth Sense’, the casting of acclaimed actress Toni Collette in a directorial debut, a horror directorial debut no less, was enough to pique interest.
The shift in attitudes towards horror has been evident in recent years. With names such as Anya Taylor Joy already having two genre films under her belt – revisiting the genre with Last Night In Soho after her rise to fame. It is a clear signal that horror is no longer simply a gateway to more mainstream work. Similarly, Julia Ducournau’s ‘Titane’ winning the prestigious Palme d’Or at Cannes in 2021 is testament to the growing respect and love for horror cinema.
At its core, Hereditary is a study on family trauma, explored predominately through the intense emotional range of mother Annie (Collette). After the loss of her own mother, Annie tries to process complex feelings of loss, reconciling this against a difficult upbringing that lacked warmth. Finding solace in her work, Annie meticulously creates expressive miniature scenes which come to represent her emotional state and grief.
Balancing her work with raising a family, Annie endeavours to create a warm environment which contrasts her own experiences, placing particular focus on daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro).
The viewer learns that Annie’s mother Ellen had limited contact with grandson Peter (Alex Wolff) however was an active figure in Charlie’s upbringing. Though the relationship between Ellen and Annie was fraught, Ellen had a close bond with granddaughter Charlie, at time crossing boundaries with her maternal instinct. Though never expressly referenced, we see hints of Annie’s internal struggle as she compares her own strained relationship with the affection doted upon Charlie.
As Charlie is both a girl and the youngest, it seems understandable that she is primarily the focus of Annie’s protective nature, but as the feature develops and we begin to explore the family dynamic, it is suggested there may be more at play than first thought.
The thirteen year old Charlie is portrayed by Milly Shapiro, an actress diagnosed with cleidocranial dysostosis – an often hereditary birth defect which affects bones and teeth. Charlie displays vocal tics and her reserved nature gives the impression of a girl much younger than she is. Whilst no diagnosis is ever referenced in the feature, once you dig into the elements at play, the title of the film begins to take on a deeper meaning. Is Annie’s overbearing behaviour overcompensation for an internal sense of guilt? And is that an element of fear the viewer can sense lingering beneath the surface? Whilst grandmother Ellen had limited contact with Peter, her relationship with Charlie was much stronger. When we learn that mental health conditions are prominent in Annie’s family history, it becomes apparent that Annie fears the hereditary nature of this. Annie’s mother became symbolic to her of her difficult upbringing, and she fears her influence over her own daughter – both due to her alternative ideologies and genetic traits.
A central theme of Hereditary is the idea of inevitability. Whilst people take steps to change their future and choose their own path, there are some things we cannot change.
Eagle eyed viewers will spot a number of more literal interpretations of inevitability throughout the film. Despite the majority of the promo material focusing on Shapiros character, shockingly the young Charlie is brutally decapitated when leaning out of a car window fairly early on. It’s an unsettling and unexpected scene – immediately subverting expectations and leaving the audience feeling unnerved. From the moment we witness the death of a young person it is clear anything goes and viewers were left shocked, with no notion of where Aster was yet to take them.
A horrible and gruesome accident, yet as the camera pans over the pole that decapitated Charlie we are presented with a symbol that appears numerous times throughout the film – suggesting an element of predestination.
The contrast in the aftermath is an interesting diorama in the uniqueness of emotion and grief – one which Annie herself attempts to recreate in her miniature as she processes the events.
Whilst Peter shuts down, in denial and succumbing to numbness, Annie has a visceral and haunting response. Breaking down in wails that give goosebumps, Annie’s pain is violent and intense (much like the cries of Florence Pugh in Aster’s second feature Midsommar).
On top of her pain, Annie tries to deal with a complex mixture of guilt and blame towards her son with their opposing reactions to trauma pushing them further apart. In the midst of her despair, Annie meets warm hearted kindred spirit Joan – who empathises with Annie, having recently lost her son and grandson. A rewatch of Hereditary may allow the viewer to pick up on hints of Joan’s ulterior motive. For example, her grandsons chalkboard can be seen freshly purchased in the back of her car when she bumps into Annie at the store.
It is fair to say that every central character within Hereditary is haunted in some way, be it figuratively or as the feature progresses, literally. Annie cannot escape her mothers lingering ghost within her life and Peter is seemingly driven mad by his guilt, characterised by auditory hallucinations of the sound of Charlie’s tics.
Whilst it is mentioned early on that Annie’s mother was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), it slowly becomes apparent that Annie herself has suffered from episodes of psychosis, despite her denial. Try as she may to protect her children from genetics, the hereditary nature of such conditions can, at times, be inevitable – the root cause of Annie’s guilt and shame.
In a chilling scene where Peter asks his mother why she tried to kill him, recounting a previous incident where he awoke to find her standing over him with a lighter and gasoline, Annie desperately flies that she was trying to save him. From what? The inevitability of the conditions plaguing the family?
Despite Annie’s protective nature over Charlie, it is Peter who begins to lose himself to the grip of the cult and the demon destined to take him over. As the film concludes, Annie – seemingly possessed by the demon Paimon – takes her own life by beheading herself with a piece of piano wire. The demon passes from Annie into Peter, becoming the living embodiment of Paimon. A more metaphorical interpretation of this turn of events is the suggestion that the conclusion represents his own ‘ascension’ and manifestation of DID.
Like other films categorised within ‘elevated horror’, Hereditary works on the surface as a tale of cults and demonic possession whilst exploring more complex themes at its core. Aster has continually proved himself to be a voice to be reckoned with in genre cinema, His latest feature Disappointment Boulevard releases later this year, again with a star studded cast.
It is clear that horror is the place to be, and long may Aster reign.
Hail Paimon.
