Catharsis Through Collective Emotionality in Midsommar (2019)
CW: emotional abuse, death
Recently, re-creations of the iconic final scene from the 2019 masterpiece Midsommar have been all over my TikTok for you page. The prevalence of this content prompted an interesting chat with a friend, in which we discussed the probable catharsis of collective emotionality. Imagine the validation you would feel while experiencing intense anguish as you are held by a collective of people who are crying and breathing in tandem with you. This is the embodiment and quintessence of pure, intensive empathy.
Scenes in which the emotions of an individual are expressed and felt communally recur throughout the film – which differs greatly from how people tend to experience their emotions in our society: alone. We have been conditioned to value independence to a degree where we harbor shame and guilt for desiring help, particularly regarding reaching out to others when we experience emotional crises.
The sub-plot of this film follows Dani’s emotional growth through the support of the commune. Right from the start, we see a desire in Dani to have her emotions acknowledged and validated by those she loves, principally by her partner Christian. Unfortunately, he and his friends vilify her for supposedly being emotionally abusive. I, however, did not perceive her as breaching such boundaries, but as desiring emotional support from an emotionally distant partner. The only instance in which Christian is shown “supporting” Dani is after the death of her parents and sister; a scene in which he holds her, looking incredibly uncomfortable, while she cries.
Once in Hälsinglanda, Dani’s awareness of Christian’s inability to provide emotional support increases, as she is met with an outpour of empathy from members of the commune. The most striking moment of collective emotionality is the scene in which Dani discovers her partner procreating with another member of the commune: rushing off to the sleeping quarters, Dani is accompanied by seven other women who breathe, sob, and scream synchronously as she processes her anger and sorrow. Previously, we saw Dani having emotional breakdowns alone – appearing ashamed and seeking solitary refuge or avoiding direct eye contact with witnesses to her embodiments of emotions. In this scene, Dani finally experiences the empathy and validation she has been longing for. Societally, we are generally emotionally repressed to a degree that inhibits us from experiencing empathy or of knowing how to react when confronted with the emotional reactions of others. Now, I’m not necessarily advocating for a complete societal shift in which we encourage people to scream-cry together when they’re grief-stricken (although I’m not not saying that), but I think reallocating emphasis from venerating individuality to revering collective support would be a good start. From personal experience, I find no greater comfort in sadness than when I can experience it in the arms of someone with whom there is reciprocal love and understanding.