It usually takes the passage of time for a film to widely attain the moniker of "classic," years in which to grow in esteem and influence while carving out an enduring legacy for itself within both its respective genre and the cinematic landscape as a whole. Like some of the very best, though, "Hereditary" doesn't need years. All it needs is the two hours it takes to watch it and walk away feeling not only rattled to one's core but somehow changed. This galvanizing writing-directing debut by Ari Aster is not only one of the truest, most wrenching explorations of a family in crisis ever brought to the screen, it fast cements itself as a watermark in horror alongside Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho," William Friedkin's "The Exorcist," Tobe Hooper's "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre," John Carpenter's "Halloween," and Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sánchez's "The Blair Witch Project." Radical in its viciously unpredictable imagination, remarkable in its revelatory construction, searing in its unshakably raw emotions, "Hereditary" is so mesmerizingly assured in its every sequence, detail and beat it's almost unthinkable to comprehend.
In the aftermath of her 78-year-old mother's death, Annie Graham (Toni Collette) struggles over her complicated feelings of grief. She was never particularly close to her mom—before her symptoms of dementia and dissociative identity disorder worsened and Annie became her caretaker, they had been estranged for years—yet it is this lifelong disconnect which plagues her most of all. A miniature artist preparing for a gallery exhibit, Annie is up against tight deadlines with her work. Suspecting that her family—husband Steve (Gabriel Byrne), 16-year-old son Peter (Alex Wolff), and 13-year-old daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro)—wouldn't be able to help her or understand what she is going through, she reluctantly attends a "Losing a Loved One" support group. One night as Annie prepares to close down her workshop, she thinks she glimpses her mother standing motionless in the shadows. She ultimately chalks this happening up to her mind and eyes playing tricks on her, but are they really? Charlie, a quiet, introverted child who shared a special bond with her late grandma, seems to be having her own trouble reconciling the loss. When Annie tries to have a heart-to-heart talk with her daughter before bed, Charlie's ominous question—"Who's going to take care of me when you die?"—pierces her like a stinger shooting straight to her soul.
See Dustin Putman, TheFilmFile.com. for full review
