Hereditary

You can measure the quality of a horror film based on the effectiveness of multiple viewings. Too frequently, major studio horrors have not only relied on jump scares that are hardly earned or warranted, but have been littered with tired plots, simplified camera work, and dull scores. Horror films losing their edge on a second viewing isn’t only because you know where the killer is going to pop into frame but because almost everything about them is safe and predictable once the tension is released. What Ari Aster did with Hereditary should not be taken lightly. This movie oozes with tone and even when you know that light pole is coming up quickly or know exactly where to look to catch Annie in the corner of the ceiling, you still can’t help but be sucked in. A lot of that tension is owed to Toni Collete (and the whole cast frankly) because her Annie feels real. She isn’t a manufactured prop for supernatural things to happen to; she’s a complex character who loves her family, but has to balance that with grief that comes with it - the horror is second to that.  I love how so much of this story just continues to unfold as you think about it, too. Paimon truly is the god of mischief. When you can go back and keep an eye peeled for his sigil and keep count of how orchestrated this entire plot is, it’s really unsettling how cruel Paimon (and his followers - Paimonites? Let’s go with that) are. It doesn’t necessarily mean that it was planned for those teenagers to chop walnuts at a high school party, for Charlie to eat that cake, for Peter to swerve from that animal RIGHT in time for that pole, but it does mean there is something larger at play here. And the fact that a large number of the neighborhood was ready to organize and pounce when the time was right may just be scarier. This will go down as a classic. Hail Paimon.