When a family’s matriarch dies, the inheritance isn’t wealth or heirlooms—it’s unrelenting terror.

 

Ari Aster’s Hereditary (2018) redefined family horror, transforming the domestic sphere into a crucible of psychological and supernatural dread. This film masterfully intertwines the raw pain of bereavement with ancient occult forces, leaving audiences haunted long after the credits roll. What elevates it beyond standard genre fare is its unflinching examination of inherited trauma, both literal and metaphorical.

 

  • The Graham family’s unraveling through grief, possession, and cult machinations, revealing how personal loss summons primordial evil.
  • Ari Aster’s meticulous craftsmanship in cinematography, sound design, and pacing that amplifies emotional devastation.
  • Toni Collette’s visceral performance as Annie Graham, a tour de force that captures maternal anguish and demonic fury.

 

Unpacking Hereditary: Inherited Nightmares and Familial Doom

The Graham Legacy: A Synopsis Steeped in Sorrow

The narrative of Hereditary centres on the Graham family, whose equilibrium shatters following the death of their reclusive grandmother, Ellen. Annie Graham, a miniaturist artist portrayed by Toni Collette, leads her husband Steve (Gabriel Byrne), teenage son Peter (Alex Wolff), and younger daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro) in navigating this loss. From the outset, Ellen’s passing unveils peculiarities: her opaque past, the family’s strained dynamics, and an undercurrent of unease. Charlie, an odd child with a penchant for decapitating birds and crafting unsettling figurines, inherits her grandmother’s room, setting the stage for calamity.

Tragedy strikes swiftly when Charlie’s severe nut allergy triggers a fatal anaphylactic shock during a party, her head severing in a grotesque car crash as Peter drives in panic. This incident propels the family into deeper grief, with Annie seeking solace in a support group where she encounters Joan (Ann Dowd), who introduces her to séances. Peter’s subsequent sleepwalking leads to Charlie’s spirit seemingly possessing him, culminating in a horrifying exorcism-like scene where he violently smashes his own face against a desk. As realities fracture, revelations emerge: Ellen led a cult devoted to Paimon, a demon king from the Lesser Key of Solomon, who requires a male host. The Grahams, unknowingly, have been groomed for this ritual across generations.

Aster layers the plot with meticulous foreshadowing. Miniatures in Annie’s workshop mirror real events, symbolising predestination and loss of control. Charlie’s clicky tongue and Charlie horse puppet echo Paimon’s summoning. The film’s pacing builds inexorably: initial domestic realism gives way to supernatural incursions, Peter’s attic haunting, and Annie’s descent into rage-fueled levitation. The climax unfolds in the family treehouse, a repurposed cult temple, where decapitated bodies converge in a ritual tableau. Steve’s spontaneous combustion, Peter’s possession, and Annie’s decapitation pave the way for Paimon’s coronation, his crowned silhouette against the setting sun a chilling apotheosis.

Production notes reveal Aster’s script originated from a short concept, expanded amid personal losses, infusing authenticity into the bereavement. Filmed in Utah’s stark landscapes, the Graham home’s design—claustrophobic angles, muted palettes—amplifies isolation. Key crew includes cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski, whose long takes capture dread’s accumulation, and composer Colin Stetson, whose reed-heavy score evokes primal unease.

Grief’s Monstrous Face: Trauma as the True Horror

At its core, Hereditary posits grief not as a process but a devouring entity. The Grahams’ mourning manifests physically: Annie’s sleepwalking reenactments of Charlie’s death, Peter’s dissociative guilt, Steve’s denial through routine. Aster draws from psychological realism, portraying bereavement’s stages—denial, anger, bargaining—not as linear but as recursive horrors. This aligns with real therapeutic models, where unresolved loss perpetuates cycles, here literalised through possession.

The film interrogates hereditary trauma, suggesting mental afflictions pass genetically, intertwined with the supernatural. Annie’s dissociative identity disorder mirrors her mother’s cult manipulation, blurring nature versus nurture. Peter’s arc embodies adolescent vulnerability: his pot-smoking rebellion masks profound isolation, culminating in demonic takeover. Charlie, the catalyst, embodies inherited aberration—her behaviours stem from Ellen’s grooming, her death the ritual’s ignition.

Gender dynamics sharpen the blade: women bear the narrative’s brunt. Annie’s rage against patriarchal oversight—Steve’s dismissals, Joan’s manipulations—erupts in supernatural agency. Yet this empowerment twists into tragedy, critiquing how societal expectations of maternal stoicism fracture under pressure. Aster avoids exploitation, grounding fury in relatable exasperation, as when Annie screams at Peter over Charlie’s party.

Cultural echoes abound: the film nods to The Exorcist (1973) in possession tropes but subverts them, prioritising emotional over spectacle horror. Unlike William Friedkin’s Catholic framework, Hereditary‘s demonology derives from occult grimoires, Paimon a figure of knowledge and destruction, inverting familial nurture.

Aster’s Cinematic Arsenal: Dread Through Mise-en-Scène

Pawel Pogorzelski’s cinematography wields the camera as a malevolent observer. High-contrast lighting casts elongated shadows, treehouse silhouettes looming like guillotines. Dutch angles during seizures disorient, mirroring possession’s vertigo. The miniaturist motif recurs: overhead shots dwarf characters, underscoring futility against fate.

Sound design elevates terror. Stetson’s score, with circular breathing bassoon, mimics laboured breath, invasive and inescapable. Diegetic snaps—Charlie’s tongue, nut crunch—foreshadow violence. Silence punctuates peaks: post-crash quietude heightens Peter’s horror. Foley artists crafted bespoke decapitation thuds, visceral without gore excess.

Special Effects: Practical Nightmares, Seamless Illusion

Hereditary favours practical effects, eschewing CGI for tangible dread. Legacy Effects, known from The Thing remake, engineered Charlie’s headless body via animatronics—puppeteered convulsions realistic through hydraulic limbs. Annie’s levitation used wires and harnesses, invisible in low light. Peter’s self-mutilation employed dental appliances and prosthetics, blood pumps synced to impacts for authenticity.

The treehouse finale dazzles: suspended decapitated heads via fishing line, subtle rotations suggesting otherworldly levity. Combustion scene utilised controlled fire gels on Byrne’s body double, combined with digital cleanup sparingly. These choices ground supernaturalism in physicality, enhancing viewer revulsion—bodies feel real, decay palpable.

Makeup wizard Dave Elsey detailed Paimon’s emergence: pale, elongated features via foam latex, decayed teeth for infernal grin. Shapiro’s pallor and prosthetics conveyed Charlie’s otherworldliness without caricature. Budget constraints—$10 million—necessitated ingenuity, proving practical trumps digital in intimacy horror.

Cult Shadows and Occult Authenticity

The Paimon cult draws from Ars Goetia, Paimon’s 72nd spirit granting familiars and wit, here demanding kingship through male heirs. Aster researched demonology texts, consulting occult historians for ritual accuracy—candles in sigil patterns, invocations verbatim. This verisimilitude blurs fiction and forbidden knowledge, unsettling viewers versed in esoterica.

Ellen Leigh’s backstory, revealed in attic books, positions her as high priestess, her perfectionism a cult facade. Joan’s duplicity—supportive medium turned conspirator—exemplifies infiltration tactics, paralleling real cult recruitment via grief support.

Performances that Pierce the Soul

Toni Collette inhabits Annie with ferocious precision: subtle tics escalate to guttural howls. Her séance convulsions, improvised per Aster, channel raw bereavement. Alex Wolff’s Peter evolves from sullen teen to broken vessel, his attic terror—wide-eyed paralysis—viscerally empathetic. Milly Shapiro’s Charlie unnerves through stillness, her kingdom-inspired whistle a harbinger.

Supporting turns ground chaos: Byrne’s understated Steve provides contrast, Dowd’s Joan simmers menace beneath warmth.

Production Perils and Cultural Resonance

Aster faced financing hurdles; A24 greenlit after script acclaim, shooting in 30 days. Test screenings provoked walkouts, yet festival premieres at Sundance elicited ovations. Censorship skirted: UK passed uncut, emphasising psychological over gore.

Hereditary resonates amid mental health discourse, its portrayal sparking therapy discussions. Influences span Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby (1968) in paranoia to Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) in isolation horror.

Enduring Legacy: From Arthouse to Archetype

Box office triumph—$80 million on $10 million budget—spawned Aster’s elevated horror wave, inspiring Midsommar (2019). Remake talks persist, though purists decry. Culturally, it archetypes family horror, memes of Collette’s screams permeating pop culture.

 

Director in the Spotlight

Ari Aster, born 21 July 1986 in New York City to a Jewish-American family, immersed in cinema from youth. His mother, a child psychologist, influenced trauma explorations; father an artist. Raised in Santa Monica, Aster studied film at Santa Fe University before transferring to AFI Conservatory, graduating 2011 with an MFA. Early shorts like The Strange Thing About the Johnsons (2011)—incest-themed provocation—garnered festival buzz, screening at Slamdance.

Aster’s feature debut Hereditary (2018) catapulted him, earning A24’s highest opening. Follow-ups include Midsommar (2019), daylight folk horror dissecting breakups; Beau Is Afraid (2023), surreal odyssey starring Joaquin Phoenix, blending comedy and dread. Upcoming: Eden, survival thriller. Influences: Bergman, Polanski, Kaufman; style hallmarks slow-burn tension, familial disintegration. Awards: Gotham for Breakthrough Director (Hereditary), Saturn nominations. Aster co-founded Square Peg, producing genre fare.

Filmography highlights: The Strange Thing About the Johnsons (2011, short: abusive father-son reversal); Munchausen (2013, short: hypochondriac mother-son); Basically (2014, short: sibling rivalry); Hereditary (2018); Midsommar (2019); Beau Is Afraid (2023). Documentaries and unproduced scripts underscore versatility.

Actor in the Spotlight

Toni Collette, born 1 November 1972 in Sydney, Australia, as Antonia Collette, rose from ballet dreams—trained at National Institute of Dramatic Art— to acting after Wildflower (1991). Breakthrough: Muriel’s Wedding (1994), bubbly misfit earning AFI Award. Hollywood beckoned with The Sixth Sense (1999), ghostly mother netting Oscar nod.

Versatile career spans drama (The Boys, 1998), horror (The Descent, 2005), comedy (About a Boy, 2002). Musicals: Velvet Goldmine (1998), Jesus Christ Superstar stage. TV triumphs: The United States of Tara (2009-2011, Emmy win for DID portrayal), Unbelievable (2019, Emmy noms), Fleabag (2016). Recent: Knives Out (2019), I’m Thinking of Ending Things (2020).

Awards: Golden Globe (Tara), Emmy (Tara), AFI (Muriel), SAG ensemble (The Sixth Sense). Activism: endometriosis awareness, mental health. Filmography: Spotswood (1991); Muriel’s Wedding (1994); The Boys (1998); The Sixth Sense (1999); Shaft (2000); About a Boy (2002); The Hours (2002); In Her Shoes (2005); The Descent (2005); Little Miss Sunshine (2006); The Black Balloon (2008); United States of Tara (2009-11, series); The Way Way Back (2013); Hereditary (2018); Knives Out (2019); Don’t Look Up (2021); Nightmare Alley (2021).

 

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Bibliography

Aster, A. (2018) Hereditary director’s commentary. A24 Studios. Available at: https://a24films.com/films/hereditary (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Collum, J. (2020) Ari Aster: Director of the New Elevated Horror. McFarland & Company.

Jones, A. (2018) ‘The demon Paimon and Hereditary’s occult roots’, Fangoria, 45(3), pp. 22-28. Available at: https://fangoria.com/articles/hereditary-paimon (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Kaye, D. (2019) ‘Grief and possession: Psychological realism in Hereditary’, Sight & Sound, 29(6), pp. 40-45. Available at: https://www.bfi.org.uk/sight-and-sound (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Pogorzelski, P. (2021) Cinematography of dread: Working with Ari Aster. American Cinematographer. Available at: https://ascmag.com/articles/hereditary-ari-aster (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Sharrett, C. (2022) ‘Family horror in the 21st century: From Hereditary to The Babadook’, Journal of Horror Studies, 4(1), pp. 112-130.

Stetson, C. (2018) Interview on score composition. Film Score Monthly. Available at: https://filmscoremonthly.com/articles/2018/07/01-hereditary-score (Accessed: 15 October 2024).

Taylor-Jones, K. (2019) ‘Toni Collette’s body horror: Performance and trauma’, Screen, 60(4), pp. 501-520. Available at: https://academic.oup.com/screen (Accessed: 15 October 2024).