The Cathartic Value of Communal Grieving

Grief is one of the most universally human experiences, yet it is one that we naturally often face alone. Some people view mourning as a deeply personal journey that must be navigated privately, behind closed doors. The power of grief is both isolating and transformative, but what if we could share our grief? What if we could mourn together, as a collective, instead of individually? In his film Midsommar, Ari Aster explores this concept through the H?rga commune, offering a thought-provoking, profound, and rather unsettling depiction of the healing power of communal grieving.

At the center of Midsommar is Dani, a woman whose life is shattered after the murder-suicide of her parents and sister. This extreme trauma leaves her emotionally distraught, yet Dani’s grief is not seen or validated by those around her. Christian, her boyfriend, is physically present but emotionally distant, unable or unwilling to provide the support Dani so desperately needs. The grief that Dani experiences is painfully isolated, and despite her best efforts—therapy, medications, and breathing exercises—she is unable to heal. Midsommar highlights the stark contrast between Dani's personal mourning and the deeply communal way grief is handled within the H?rga commune.

The commune’s approach to grief is one of complete emotional sharing. In this rural Swedish community, the collective mourning of pain and loss is considered essential for healing. Rather than bottling up their emotions or grieving alone, the members of the H?rga commune grieve as one unit, experiencing each emotion—joyful or sorrowful—together. This ritualized communal grieving is both strange and beautiful, as it allows members to fully experience their emotions without judgment or isolation.

This is most evident in a scene where Dani, after learning of her boyfriend’s infidelity, suffers a panic attack. She hears the sounds of a sexual interaction between Christian and a young woman in the commune coming from a nearby temple, typically used for sexual rituals. She approaches the door, looks inside, and spies Christian having sex with Maja. She begins to gasp for air, crumbling to the ground and vomiting. As she collapses, seven of the commune women rush to Dani’s side and lift her up, running her to the nearby sleeping commons and placing her hyperventilating body onto a bed. As her panic attack grows increasingly louder, Dani crawls off the bed and onto the floor, where the women crowd around her and hold onto her face and body. Rather than console Dani, however, the women begin to mimic her actions and sounds as her crying turns into hysteric screams. The women all sob and wail in unison with Dani, even mimicking her facial expressions.

The H?rgans believe in the sharing of emotions, feelings, and pain; the commune shares any form of trauma that occurs so that they can all go through it together, which is what the women are doing here with Dani. Dani begins to release the trauma she has been holding onto for so long—the trauma of losing her parents, losing her sister, losing her boyfriend, and losing the life she once knew. This is the first time that Dani has publicly released any kind of emotion since arriving at the commune; prior to this moment, any time Dani’s eyes begin to fill with tears, she aggressively swats them away and swallows her sorrows.?

Dani, like many women in films, has been made to feel crazy and hysterical by those around her, even after going through a trauma as extreme as her own sister killing both herself and Dani’s parents; she buries her sadness and grieves in silence to avoid feeling like the burden Christian makes her out to be. She has never felt that it is socially acceptable to release her emotions publicly, and she has never felt truly held by those around her. This is why when Dani is finally given the chance to grieve publicly in the arms of the H?rga women, her reaction is so visceral and extreme; the floodgates open, and all of Dani’s repressed emotions pour out.

Dani’s experience in the H?rga commune is a stark departure from the solitary grieving process that many of us are accustomed to. In Western society, grief is often seen as something to be processed quietly and alone. This individualistic approach can lead to feelings of isolation, as if mourning publicly makes one vulnerable or even a burden. However, Midsommar suggests that grieving together—sharing pain, sorrow, and even joy—can create deep bonds of emotional connection and catalyze healing. When the H?rgan women mourn with Dani, they are not only validating her grief, they are providing her with a safe space to release it without fear of judgment.

Through the H?rga commune, Midsommar invites us to consider the healing potential of communal mourning. It challenges the idea that grief is a solitary journey, and instead presents a vision of mourning as something to be shared. In a society where we are often expected to carry our pain quietly, the film poses an important question: is grief something to be expressed freely, supported by others who understand and validate the emotional pain, rather than stowed away to be dealt with internally? Dani’s transformative healing journey offers an answer–by embracing the support of others, grief can become not just a personal experience, but a collective one, that ultimately leads to deeper and faster healing.