Before he made one of the year’s most terrifying films, Hereditary, Ari Aster was honing his craft in short-form filmmaking, crafting smaller films that may not have much in terms of duration, but certainly do have some interesting ideas. I decided to explore some of Aster’s short films in an attempt to decipher the complex mind of one of cinema’s brightest new iconoclasts, and the most logical place to start would be at the beginning, with his very first film, which is also incidentally his most controversial (even more so than Hereditary). The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is not necessarily a horror film, but it doesn’t stop it from being a profoundly terrifying film, an audacious debut from a filmmaker who may be on the way to redefining what can be conveyed on screen. Disturbing, complex and indescribably bleak, Aster’s short film, at only 27 minutes, is more unsettling than many feature-length films, and twice as audacious. It is a difficult film to watch, and one that veers into some awfully dark places, but remains steadily resonant when one looks at the intentions behind the film, with The Strange Thing About the Johnsons being more about the message, and the process of making a controversial film, rather than the subject matter itself. Needless to say, The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is not a particularly pleasant film to watch, but it is quite an experience nonetheless.

The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is about something very disturbing, and a subject that cannot ever be shown in a mainstream film – perhaps what makes this film so controversial is not only the subject matter but the fact that the story focuses on something that is still quite importantly taboo: incestuous relationships. There have been works that have looked at sexual abuse within the family unit before, albeit not often, but what makes The Strange Thing About the Johnsons different is that it is a reversal of the traditional power dynamic. In this film, a son named Isaiah (Carton Jeffrey as a teenager, Brandon Greenhouse as an adult) develops an unhealthy sexual attraction to his father, a highly-acclaimed poet named Sidney (Billy Mayo) that persists from his adolescent years right through the early stages of his marriage. It is not a mutual relationship, as Sidney is constantly forced into these harrowing situations by his son, who manipulates him and uses psychological abuse to coerce him into adhering to his cruel, perverted demands. Sidney is terrified of his son, who has emotional power over his father, but he tries to be liberated from the relationship, trying to inform his wife (who is already well-aware of the relationship between her husband and son, and is suitably traumatized, yet does nothing about it), or telling of his son’s transgressions in a memoir that his son refuses to let see the light of day. Sidney is trapped by his son’s emotional and psychological manipulations, and it would appear the only way out is through tragedy, which promptly does strike when it becomes clear that Sidney’s story is one defined by his son’s grotesque actions, and unfortunately has to end at his son’s malicious hands as well.

It would take an actor with a supreme amount of courage to opt to be in a film like The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, and I can imagine many performers would refuse to go near this film, because it is honestly a grotesque, almost exploitative, film that features irredeemable characters and a story that is as revolting as it is harrowing. Yet, an obscure character actor named Billy Mayo, who usually peddles his craft in forgettable bit parts in mediocre television shows and low-budget films, gives an almost transcendent performance as Sidney, showing the fear and anguish that come with being the victim of an abusive relationship. The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is a film about subverting expectations, and to play a character that is normally shown as strong, willful and stern in a way that is insecure, terrified and anxious was quite a bold decision, and Mayo rose to the challenge admirably, capturing the unrestrained fear victims of abuse feel when confronted with their abuser. Brandon Greenhouse is equally as good, playing the two-sided Isaiah, who is charming, friendly and kind to others, but a vicious abuser behind closed doors, abusing his father, sexually and psychologically, to the point where his father, who has shown him nothing but love and care (especially in the first scene, where Sidney walks in on his teenage son in a very private moment, which may have been the catalyst for the subsequent sexual abuse). Greenhouse’s performance is one of the most profoundly terrifying I have seen, and the layered complexities he brings to this character are nothing short of astounding. A character-driven morality tale like The Strange Thing About the Johnsons relies heavily on the central performances, and both Mayo and Greenhouse delivered astonishing performances that make me question why neither has been able to pursue better projects since this, considering both have clear talents. Regardless, this film serves to be a fascinating piece performed by two excellent actors in very difficult roles.

What is the purpose of cinema? This is a question I’ve asked many times before, and the answers vary, with no clear solution to the overarching intention behind why films exist. Some may call them forms of escapism, ways to relax and leave problems behind while simply enjoying something that one doesn’t need to think too much about. If this is the right answer, it would dismiss the countless films that have the intention to change the way the viewer thinks, and those that challenge them to be active in the viewing process, provoking thought and inciting conversations. With a film like The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, I would even take it a step further: some films are made with the intention of quite simply making the viewer uncomfortable and dismantling their preconceptions and beliefs through unsettling stories that are difficult to watch, whether it be because of the demented nature of the story, or the controversial ways in which these filmmakers execute these stories. There are some infamous films that go much too far in trying to revolt the audience (ones that I need not even name, because I won’t spare them a second thought), but then there are those like The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, which is almost extraordinary in how it handles a troubling concept. It is a film that grapples the delicate line between meaningful social commentary and sickening exploitation – and for the most part, it succeeds in being an audaciously twisted satire that tackles an upsetting subject with poise and sardonic humor, with the humorous moments in this film being too bleak to elicit even a faint laugh, rather serving to show the absurdity of the story, which is actually a reflection of society as a whole, and a frankly stark one at that. Cinema is used to elicit reactions, and there are few that caused such a visceral response in me quite like The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, an uneasy but remarkable film.

The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is a film that I feel bears resemblance to the work of people like John Waters, Lars Von Trier or Gaspar Noé, who intended to shock the audience but also comment on society. The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is a modern work of ‘shock cinema’, and it feels well within the many films that contain social messages conveyed through sometimes-implausible but relentlessly shocking storytelling. The Strange Thing About the Johnsons looks at the familial unit, and how secrets lurking beneath the exterior of an otherwise care-free, loving family, can bring about domestic destruction. It is a film that subverts the conventions of what a perfect family is, looking at the nuclear, All-American family as not only being imperfect but also extremely perverted, where the power of bonds of blood can be the biggest hindrance in getting out of an abusive relationship. This is a film that looks more at the psychological torture that comes as a result of being the victim of sexual abuse rather than simply the physical act (there are only two scenes of implied sexual contact in this film, with most of the interactions between the two leads being more psychological in nature). It is a film about trauma and the effect it has on families, which seems to be a theme Aster is fascinated with, focusing on it heavily in Hereditary, also looking at how difficult relationships between parents can threaten to tear a family apart, and eventually succeed.

In summation, The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is a film fully-deserving of its well-earned controversy, and it is honestly a terrifyingly shocking film. However, it is one that looks at a taboo subject in a way that is not apologetic towards the action, but transfixing in its complexity – there are many layers to this story, many of which are deliberately (and rightly) elided and do not get any explanation. Aster made an almost hypnotic satirical horror, one with some truly horrendous twists that show the utter absurdity of the premise, which does evoke something deeper. The filmmaking itself is outstanding – it is encouraging to see how Aster was able to show promise right from the outset of his career, and some of the elements of this film – both thematically and visually – were replicated in later work (I hope I am not the only one who saw clear references to The Shining throughout both The Strange Thing About the Johnsons and Hereditary). More than anything else, The Strange Thing About the Johnsons is a film that manages to be a thought-provoking film that stirs discussion on human nature and the inherent need to keep our desires and questionable actions secret. The family in this film hide the horrendous secret of sexual abuse and incest, but this film incites discussions on any relationship built on secrets, and how this can slowly destroy an individual. Perhaps this is the most resonant and terrifying part about The Strange Thing About the Johnsons – this could, and likely does, happen to many people, but because victims are often the subject of psychological abuse as well, they cannot express it or liberate themselves in fear of the violent repercussions. I am not entirely sure if I adored or despised The Strange Thing About the Johnsons, but it is certainly effective, and Aster conveys the hideously-complex story he clearly intended to, which makes this film a truly unpleasant surprise.