Thoroughly disturbing in all the right ways.

I’m not sure what she’s done to deserve it, but Toni Collette appears to be the unluckiest mother in cinema history. Whether it’s About a Boy, The Way, Way Back, or even Little Miss Sunshine; Collette feels destined to forever be a mum one step away from all-out implosion.

Stretched to her emotional limits in many genres through the years, by far her most traumatic work to date has been within the horror world. For, not only did The Sixth Sense represent the actor’s big Hollywood break, but it saw Collette as a mum put through the wringer to such an extent that it almost felt unfair.

For a lesser actor, this extensive form of maternal torture could find them buried under the immense emotional weight, but it’s to Collette’s credit that she positively thrives in such a pressurised role. It really felt like a make or break role for Collette at the time, but her ability to dig deep and channel the character’s pain, confusion, and angst into a duelling performance of fragility and strength, appears uniquely hers.

If you thought The Sixth Sense pushed Collette to the very brink, however, just you wait and see what Hereditary has in store, as she’s stretched far further than we’ve ever seen before. But, in true Toni Collette style, she actively embraces the role; going full-tilt in an all-encompassing, career-defining role that, much like the film itself, isn’t exactly comfortable viewing, yet entices you in, grabs you by the shoulders, and refuses to let go.

After the death of her enigmatic mother, Annie Graham (Toni Collette) begins to unpick the mysterious and terrifying secrets of her heritage. As she wades deeper and deeper into the murky recesses of her ancestry, Annie unfurls a darkness that threatens to consume everyone around her. With the weight of grief and fate weighing down, Annie struggles desperately to hold both herself and her family together, as their inherited fate stalks them like a demon in the shadows.

Renaissance is a word banded about far too regularly. When you stop to think about it, the term appears somewhat reductive when thrown out freely to any old actor, director, or genre that hits a purple patch. Things just aren’t that simple and to be worthy of such a grandiose idiom, it must be earned.

Dragged to hell and back (quite literally at times), horror feels more than worthy of the renaissance tag, as we stand amidst one of the genre’s brightest eras. If it’s cold, hard evidence you’re after, look no further than the incredible box office receipts, critical reception, and awards recognition received, comparative to what went before, and try telling me the genre isn’t in the best place it’s been in for many, many years.

For a myriad of reasons, the horror genre has hit the mother of all purple patches, but chief among the reasons is the visceral, all-encompassing experience it provides your average thrill-seeking cinemagoer. At a time of over-inflated ticket prices, films need to offer more bang for your buck than the likes of Netflix, to offer something more immersive, and horror provides just that.

There’s something distinctively primal about the experience a horror film provides that you just don’t get from any other genre. For many, the appeal is akin to a theme park ride; a rollercoaster you can jump on, strap yourself in, and ready yourself for the thrill, all in the knowledge that you’ll make it out safely.

Safety is an easy thing to fall back on for your average horror. However, what really separates the wheat from the chaff is a horror movie’s ability to sneak up and gently unclick that seatbelt while you’re not looking. Not only does Hereditary remove the seatbelt, it gleefully stands by the car with a can of paint thinner and a box of matches ready to burn it all to the ground. It’s not pretty and it’s certainly not comfortable, but then great horror shouldn’t be.

If you’re looking for easily consumable, instant thrills and jump-scares, you’ve come to the wrong place my friend. Instant gratification is not in Hereditary’s lexicon whatsoever. What you get here is the kind of lingering, slow-burn terror that gradually, painfully gets its hooks deep into you and refuses to let go.

The horror here is relentless and unremitting, even in the films quieter moments (especially in the quieter moments), imparting the kind of unease that’s far harder to pull off than any cheap scare. While these jump-scare moments are dotted here and there, as they remain the lifeblood of any horror, Hereditary steadfastly refuses to rely on them; making for a viewing experience that hits hard and hits deep.

Hereditary’s real magic comes from the intangible. Like any good horror, fear comes from the unexplained, from a projection of one’s own nightmares, rather than any form of perceptible boogieman. There’s a sense of spirituality, of the occult, of a devil hiding in the darkness to Hereditary but it’s all implied, as writer-director Ari Aster holds back and allows us to draw our own conclusions.

The film’s focus on the unexplained and the supernatural undoubtedly encourages comparison to the 1970s and a golden age of horror where the occult was king. Certainly, the influence of genre greats like The Exorcist, Carrie, Rosemary’s Baby, and The Omen is plain to see, but the similarities go far deeper than mere subject matter.

Touching on themes of grief, loss, parental guilt, and resentment; Hereditary is positively brimming with subtext that not only ties itself to the demonic, visceral revulsions of The Exorcist, but to the ominous, psychological tone of Don’t Look Now, where the themes hang heavy over characters like a dark, painful cloud. It’s the unrelenting and oppressive atmosphere of Hereditary that feels ripped directly from the 70s and from an era that prided itself on working an audience’s grey matter, as well as their deepest, darkest fears.

Ari Aster clearly has no problem wearing his influences on his sleeve, as the film’s haunting imagery and gritty, gnawing tone will attest to, yet this is very much a horror rooted in the 21st century. In what is, astonishingly, Aster’s first full-length feature, we’re offered an overly 70s tone and theme, shot through with a thoroughly modern sensibility that draws strong thematic and tonal comparisons with contemporary horror classics, The Babadook and The Witch.

Showcasing skills way beyond his tender years, Aster’s shot composition, camerawork, sound design, and editing demonstrate a director with an auteur’s eye and an ambition to play things any way but safe. Like a Wes Anderson film gone very, very wrong, Hereditary presents itself front-on like a rather sinister dolls house or, more accurately, like one of Annie’s hauntingly detailed miniatures.

Aster uses the entire screen to devastating effect, as we’re encouraged to keep our eyes on every inch of the frame for fear of what lurks in its dark recesses. The director’s deliberate shot composition helps build a palpable atmosphere if impending dread, as does the unnervingly impeccable set design, yet it’s the editing (or lack thereof) that allows Aster to really turn the screw.

With shots drawn out to extremes, Hereditary becomes an exercise in how far you can push an audience before they snap; relentlessly teasing our patience until it all becomes too much, then letting it all go in a gut-punch of third act. Whether it’s a reaction shot, a slow zoom on Annie’s pained outpouring of grief, or a teasing static shot of a foreboding hallway; Aster appears absolutely determined to hand nothing over easily.

Although small, the film’s cast run a tight ship, with every member of the Graham family offering performances that will enthral and unnerve in equal measure. As the key to the film’s dark intrigue, Milly Shapiro is both mesmerising and terrifying as daughter Charlie, whose blank expression and otherworldly appearance make her a difficult character to pin down throughout.

Tapping into the vein of child-centric horror that made The Exorcist and The Omen so potent, Hereditary know precisely what it’s doing with Charlie, as she ghosts in and out of scenes with terrifying vocal ticks and a vacancy that walks the line between innocence and demonic menace nimbly. While this is Shapiro’s first film gig, she takes to what could’ve been a difficult role with the ease of a seasoned pro.

The eerily distant, off-kilter menace of Charlie carries much of Hereditary’s menace, as her ethereal presence looms large over the entire narrative, yet it’s left to Alex Wolff as her on-screen sibling, Peter, to do a lot of the heavy lifting. Trapped in the family from hell (quite literally at times) like a fly in a spider’s web, Wolff’s performance swings wildly from physical excess to subdued trauma with ease, acting as our unlikely protagonist while things rapidly deteriorate around him.

As consummately professional as ever, Gabriel Byrne gives a solid performance as a father way out of his element, however, he is thoroughly outshined by Toni Collette who takes a torch to the screen and maniacally stands by while it burns. If anyone knows how to play a mother teetering on the edge of oblivion it’s Collette and she doesn’t let us down with a performance that grabs you firmly around the neck and shakes vigorously; all while retaining your empathy, even in the toughest of situations.

Annie’s decline isn’t so much gradual, rather a brisk jog towards a clifftop before hurling, face-first, over the edge. It’s a downwards spiral of monstrous proportions, as the truth about her heritage rapidly catches up with her. Under a lesser actor, these circumstances could easily descend into an unwatchable mess, yet Collette is nothing less than captivating for the duration.

Our sympathy with Annie’s predicament ebbs and flows as revelations gradually unfold and allegiances grow as uncomfortable and volatile as the film itself, yet it’s physically impossible to drag your eyes away from Collette’s performance. Perhaps one of the hardest working, but criminally underrated, performers in the game, it feels about time that Collette was finally given her due…and probably a hug.

As viewing experience go, Hereditary is an incredibly uncomfortable one, yet in exactly the ways you want a great horror to be. Building its scares around suggestion and the unseen, the film’s gnawing terror works precisely because of its lack of tangibility and, while blood, guts, and jump-scares are deployed when necessary; Hereditary operates primarily in the mind. Hinging on an all-encompassing performance from the unluckiest mum in horror, Toni Collette, stand out performances from its two young cast members, and the thoroughly accomplished directing of newcomer Ari Aster; Hereditary is yet another chapter in the continued renaissance of a much-maligned genre. Devastating, unhinged, atmospheric, and cerebral; Hereditary simultaneously whisks us back to an era when horror messed with our minds as much as our stomachs, while promising an exciting future of the genre.