A24 Films Like ‘Midsommar’ and ‘The Witch’ Taught Me How to Love Horror

Over the weekend, media Twitter resoundingly dumped on a Guardian pan of The Haunting of Bly Manor because Lucy Mangan’s review repeatedly stated that the critic loathed horror in general. The piece inspired conversations about how horror has been maligned by critics for decades and even culminated with long-time film critic Janet Maslin admitting it was unprofessional for her to walk out of a screening of George Romero’s Dawn of the Dead (along with a promise she would reassess the film today).

Here’s the thing: I used to hate horror. Well, it was more that I was literally confused, repulsed, and terrified of it. But I have spent the last five years trying to educate myself in the genre’s brilliance and charms. Today, I consider myself a late-bloomer of a horror fan thanks in huge part to A24. Midsommar, The Witch, and the studio’s indefatigably creative approach to horror have helped me warm up to a genre I struggled to connect with in my youth.

So, yes, I need to come clean and admit that I used to be one of those folks who simply refused to fuck with horror. It wasn’t so much that I thought the genre was beneath me, but beyond me. My limited experiences with the slasher movie left me feeling wholly out of control as a viewer. I loathed the feeling that the film itself was trying to outwit me with jump scares, plot twists, and wince-inducing displays of gore. It wasn’t that I thought horror lacked depth; it was that horror felt like an all-consuming maw, threatening to swallow me whole, screaming like a banshee as my friends in the room laughed at my fright.

So I avoided horror. I accepted subversions of the genre, like the science fiction-rooted Aliens and psychological twists on the slasher like Hannibal, but horror turned me off. I did my best to stay away from it. When editors wanted scary movie-related pitches, I would demure that I was not the best person for the gig. But somehow I’ve come to love the genre. In recent years, I’ve obsessed over modern classics zombie thrillers Train to Busan, took myself to a solo screening of Jordan Peele’s Us, and been quietly ecstatic when friends asked me to watch classics like The Exorcist and Black Christmas with them.

What changed? Well, I changed, to be sure (and I’ll get to why in a moment). But I also found myself intrigued by a new wave of horror films released by indie film studio A24.

In less than a decade, A24 has become a hotbed of rising talent, both in terms of nurturing burgeoning auteurs and up-and-coming stars. However for the past five years, it’s also become one of the most exciting horror distributors. Starting with 2016’s The Witch, A24 has dropped a steady stream of horror gems, including Green Room, Hereditary, It Comes at Night, and Midsommar. These films range from the sublimely psychological to the balls out grotesque. And they’re all cool as fuck.

A24’s horror films were so compelling, I had to overcome my own prejudices and embrace the fear. What these movies — The Witch and Midsommar — in particular illuminated for me is that all horror is a conduit for catharsis. Whether it’s indulging in the horniness and goriness of ’80s slashers or confronting the pain of grief in a sun-soaked Swedish cult, these movies are our modern Bacchanalia. Those screams I was afraid of letting loose? The terror I didn’t want to feel? Those are emotions I needed a conduit to express. Horror could do that. A24 simply made gateway horror films for nerds like me.

I was already on my horror journey when last year’s Midsommar came out, but it remains one of the most important films I’ve seen in my life. That’s because I saw it after dealing with a calendar year full of personal grief. Close friends died suddenly and beloved relatives slipped away after year’s of painful struggle. My heart was broken and my life felt it was only slowly coming back into focus. To me, Midsommar was a rager of a horror film that encapsulated the anomie of grief. The journey that Florence Pugh’s Dani goes on felt terrifying if only because I, too, wanted to be embraced in a group hug of howls.

So yeah, it took me a while, but I finally learned how to lean into the catharsis allowed by horror films. A24 was simply there to catch me as I fell, screaming, into this warm abyss.

Where to watch Midsommar