Sick Fuck: advanced musings on “Hereditary”

In rallying my friends to see Ari Aster’s debut feature Hereditary, which has already developed a fearsome reputation as the most traumatically terrifying film to come out in decades, I was reminded of an anecdote from my movie-watching past.

Years ago, myself and my girlfriend of the time, Jen, wanted to spend a quiet evening at home watching a movie. We talked about what movies we wanted to see, or wanted to see again, or loved and wanted the other one to see. What did smart-guy Paul suggest? “Hey! Have you ever seen ‘Requiem for a Dream?’ I love that movie.”

Two hours later, Jen was very upset with me. I learned the hard way that only a twisted fuck like me watches “Requiem” on a pleasant night in.

This feels like that.  So I rallied my horror-loving friends to see the movie this Sunday, but I was quick to point out that this didn’t sound like a “fun night out at the movies,” and we may all leave deeply disturbed.

As if we didn’t show up that way.

I had eight takers.  Stay tuned for my thoughts.

Have you seen Hereditary, directed by Ari Aster?  Was it really that horrifying?

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