Hereditary robbed me of something i thought i had complete control over. if you follow me, you know a lot of my comfort films are horror; there's something about this genre that showcases what it's like to process going through trauma, and then purging it in a way that other genres cant grasp. trauma and grief are ugly, horrific things to go through, so it only makes sense that the expulsion and catharsis of letting go of those emotions for a time is similarly ugly and messy, hence why i feel less alone when watching horror. 

i didnt get that here. i got the opposite. i went to this theater alone. i felt like i was strapped to my seat, forcibly watching something that not only rejected my catharthis through horror, it amplified what im truly afraid of. neglect, rejection, loneliness, and familial issues. i had to face these emotions while being subjected to imagery so disturbing that it made me cry, want to vomit, want to pass out, and eventually at one point during the 3rd act, scream out loud. no horror movie has ever made me feel this way. i thought it was a joke when someone said watching this movie is equivalent to a workout, but after seeing it all i want to do is eat ice cream to cope and sleep.

but it made me face those emotions and conquer them. it didnt let me hide behind any pretty neon colors or a funky disco soundtrack. it knows that familial dysfunction and its catastrophic effects that it can have on our children is the greatest horror we can ever bring forth to the world.