Hereditary ★★★★★

Words & Illustrations by Mark Holland

Of all genre pieces that struggle to also be accepted as great standalone films, its horror that seems to get the roughest deal. Years of second-rate horror flicks relying on jump scares and predictable tropes have given the genre a bad rep. They do the job and they provide knee-jerk thrills and cheap shocks but all with very little meat on the bone and the fear doesn’t tend to stick with you for long after the credits roll. So when a great horror film comes along that manages to terrify you as well as offer something more substantial, it’s really something to celebrate. The release of a number of stellar character-driven horror films like It Follows, The Witch and The Babadook in recent years have shown there’s still plenty of life in the genre. Hereditary is another great addition into the canon of great modern horror films, but I didn’t think it was possible for a film to make you feel physically sick with fear before until watching it.

Hereditary is the debut feature of Ari Aster and it extracts terror from that all familiar and time-honoured source, family. This draws notable comparisons to titans of the genre like Don’t Look Now and Rosemary’s Baby, both of which were big inspirations for Aster during the process of making it. The film is about the grief and the complicated emotions felt by one family following the death of their overbearing matriarchal grandmother, the film’s most terrifying character and she doesn’t even appear. Her looming presence is what drives the story and the theme of what she’s left behind from the grave is what gives Hereditary its ominous title.

The family’s mother, Annie, is brilliantly played by Toni Collete who gives a powerhouse performance and surely deserves an oscar nomination for her screams alone, some of the most gut-wrenchingingly horrifying screaming ever recorded. We’re unsure of the exact details of Annie’s relationship with her late mother, but a strange eulogy she gives at her funeral early on tells us it was a complex one at best. Gabriel Byrne is solid as always as the world-weary father, struggling to hold things together as his wife and children (Alex Wolff and newcomer Milly Shapiro) recess and allow their traumatic past to tear them apart. It works alone as a compelling family drama with some of the strongest scenes taking place between Annie and her son as they trade blows across the dinner table. If you were to take away the demons and ghouls, it would still hold together, given how heart breaking the events are that unfold and the believability of the performances. But Hereditary never forgets that first and foremost, it’s a horror film, with a primary purpose of scaring the pants off you and it doesn’t take long for proceedings to take a fully bonkers turn.

The film doesn’t opt for the short-burst tension & release of the jump scare, but instead manages to sustain a sickening, consistent level of torment and terror throughout. This is done through carefully placed subtle motifs that unsettle the audience from the off as well as excruciatingly long pauses and takes that have you begging for the director to cut. It’s fitting that Annie’s line of work is making meticulous miniature model doll houses and sets that fill the house as the film too is woven with cunning intricate details that cry for repeat viewings. Odd things you might glance in the background during an early scene will have big repercussions later on, that completely blindside you and serve to disturb you all the more.

Much of the tension comes from the incredible sound design, which manages to turn the scrawl of a scribbling pencil, the scuttle of an insect or the click of a tongue hitting the top of a mouth into vile cacophonous rackets that crawl straight down your spine. It’s provides the sort of fear that stays with you for days to come, it doesn’t so much get under your skin as it does rock you to your very core. Hereditary is an endurance test and watching it is one of the most distressing and uncomfortable experiences I’ve ever had in the cinema. I can’t wait to see it again.