I only watched The Tragedy of Macbeth after I discovered that the film contributed to Ari Aster’s Midsommar, which I have seen five times. I do not relate to Macbeth’s story—I would run the other way if I encountered witches, I lack ambition, and I am not capable of killing except theoretically in self-defense. I do not relate to any character in the story except probably the off-screen people trying to dodge the drama and violence of those in power, and the film adaptations of Shakespeare’s play fail to capture my attention the entire span of the movie. Even though convicted rapist Roman Polanski, a director whose work generally impresses me, directed this movie, it is not the exception to the rule. Overall while his cinematic interpretation of the play is one of the best because of its emphasis on the psychological and supernatural aspects of the story, there are only a couple of scenes that resonated with me. Justin Kurzel’s version is more visually complex and evocative, but did not work for me. I wish that Polanski would reshoot the film with more updated equipment at his disposal because it looks like a film from the 1970s, including the gore though the final scene of Macbeth’s headless POV still works, but unlike other films, it feels like a period piece that reflects the characters’ era even if it is not actually accurate.

This entry is less a review of The Tragedy of Macbeth than a conversation between Polanski’s film and Midsommar. People unfamiliar with Polanski’s work should always expect that his films are imbued with visual depictions of personal trauma: a serial killer nearly caught him as a child; the Nazis terrorized him and killed his family, and the Manson family murdered his wife and his unborn child. One of the more powerful scenes in the film, when Macduff’s family gets butchered, was an explicit reference to the Nazis invading his home. Some victims of (sexual) violence go on to commit acts of (sexual) violence. While we may not know the details of what he survived, his films provide a clue. Artists are compelled to revisit trauma in their creative endeavors. He has absolutely no faith in human nature or institutions so it is not a surprise that he would choose to adapt one of Shakespeare’s bloodier plays, which include the murder of women and boys.

The Tragedy of Macbeth is a tragedy to Polanski because it speaks of a tireless cycle of betrayal for power, war as early signs of madness even when defending oneself and institutions as glorified death cults. Polanski does not believe that men are innately noble and can stop evil, but even when resisting it, are trapped in evil’s narrative because of ambition, passiveness and a failure to name it. Evil is an innate part of the landscape and power structures. The only effective tool against evil is the nature of its latest incarnation’s innate vulnerability, which in Macbeth’s case, is explicitly stated in the witches’ prophecy.

Even though Macduff wins, and in our twenty-first century eyes, is a slight antidote to toxic masculinity as the only man who pauses to mourn before murdering, he is not the savior, and his emotional response was probably seen as a weakness. He hands his power to another, who barely holds the screen’s attention before the cycle begins again. The witches ultimately win in The Tragedy of Macbeth, which diverges from the play, by showing another man drawn to their siren song. The witches in this film play a similar role to the vampires in Polanski’s The Fearless Vampire Killers.

Polanski takes a traditional visual approach to evil with stormy weather and darkness as portents of doom whereas Aster takes an opposite approach in Midsommar; however Aster explicitly references Polanski’s imagery in The Tragedy of Macbeth. The May Queen’s fertility rituals are similar to the witches’ opening scene on the beach. The music in both films have a similar sound. Both films show people eagerly leaping to their death. Aster uses snow instead of fog for his opening credits, but the mysterious chants are parallel to Harga’s singing, which means that Aster is making a more explicit supernatural link to Harga than I initially thought. During the butchering of Macduff’s family, it culminates in a fire consuming the scene and transitioning to Lady Macbeth’s doctor’s face, which Aster uses during Dani’s dance during the May Queen competition.

The bear imagery in The Tragedy of Macbeth signifies the casual cruelty of Macbeth’s reign, and later Macbeth equates himself with the baited bear during his final battle scene, which is the only battle scene that we see him fight in the film. We only hear of his badassry, we never see it. It is actually a really superb fight scene, and Jon Finch as the confident, mad king in his gleaming armor would be great to see fight against Xena or Lexa from The 100 though they would destroy him. It is quite a transformation from the withdrawn, quiet Macbeth whom we see silently executing those he vanquished on behalf of the king.

Bears are an important image in Midsommar usually equated with Christian, Dani’s boyfriend, as a scapegoat to purge all the evil from Harga and Dani’s life. When Macbeth seeks out the witches in their den, Aster references it in Christian’s fertility participation. Harga is similar to Macbeth in being a murderous host.

Macbeth is also visually equated with Dani. Both are lifted up as king and May Queen at their respective coronations. They share destructive hallucinations, which no one else in Harga experiences, especially with vegetation of the land consuming them though Macbeth responds to this triumphantly and mistakenly, and it correctly alarms Dani. They both seem to have prophetic dreams and suffer from insomnia. They both see the dead. They both embrace and consensually, enthusiastically consume the potions/drugs and glory that evil, the witches and Harga, offer them. They are gradually not personally alarmed as their friends (Macbeth’s wife) disappear and/or die, eagerly murder others to solidify their power and grow more confident as they lose themselves to madness. When they are most clothed in glory, Macbeth in his silver armor and Dani in her flowers, it is the point of complete consummation of their soul.

If The Tragedy of Macbeth truly inspired Midsommar, then Aster sees Dani as less of a victim than the average viewer can imagine. Dani may feel survivor’s guilt for escaping her family’s fate just as Macbeth feels correctly culpable for murdering the king, his attendants and his friend. Unlike Macbeth, Aster does not just see Dani as an enthusiastic tool of evil, but as one of the witches, participating in the rituals, a part of the land and the supernatural in a way that Macbeth is not. Dani is more ambitious than we may believe. If Harga serves her before she even knew of their existence, then are each of the guest’s murders not just human sacrifices, but sacrifices to Dani’s ego for perceived slights? While Macbeth changes the tone of the country with his bloodthirsty ambition, Dani and Harga feed off of each other by eliminating anyone that diminishes her in comparison-the only happy couple—or distracts from being the center of initially Christian’s attention, but then Harga’s. She is the last guest, and there can only be one center of attention, Dani.

Obviously only Aster can speak to how The Tragedy of Macbeth influenced Midsommar, but if you want to judge whether or not my theories are correct, see for yourself, but only if you already saw Midsommar on the big screen. I would recommend rewatching Midsommar, which is streaming on Amazon Prime, before seeing The Tragedy of Macbeth. I will consume anything even if the creator is problematic, but usually I find a way not to pay with the exception of this film, which I paid $2.99 to rent and stream it on Amazon. I am not suggesting that this film is good enough to violate your conscience if you do not like financing the lifestyle of a convicted rapist on the run from justice, but if you have no such qualms, you know where to find it.