Aftersun, 2022.
Written and Directed by Charlotte Wells.
Starring Paul Mescal, Frankie Corio, Celia Rowlson-Hall, Sally Messham, Ayse Parlak, Sophia Lamanova, Brooklyn Toulson, and Spike Fearn.
SYNOPSIS:
Sophie reflects on the shared joy and private melancholy of a holiday she took with her father twenty years earlier. Memories real and imagined fill the gaps between as she tries to reconcile the father she knew with the man she didn’t.
After a long day of vacationing at a Turkish resort in writer/director and accomplished shorts filmmaker Charlotte Wells’ quietly deeply personal debut feature Aftersun, 11-year-old Sophie (with Frankie Corio delivering what is undisputedly the best child performance since Brooklynn Prince in The Florida Project) asks her 31-year-old father Calum (a sustained melancholy turn from Paul Mescal) if he knows the feeling of tiredness, sore bones, and sinking into nothing. With consistently stunning and methodological framing from DP, Gregory Oke catchers them in separate rooms of the same shot, where Calum is despondent and has likely been depressed for quite some time. He’s in physical pain (although he is recovering from casts that come off his hand and leg throughout their stay) but also in mental anguish.
The question “why” is certainly the right one, but ever elusive in slow-burn Aftersun, which plays like a surgically precise dismantling of one’s heart for 98 minutes. 20 years later (the same age as her father), Sophie is watching video footage (it’s reasonable to assume the past takes place in the late 1990s or possibly even 2001) of this vacation (perhaps trying to remember her father on what would be his birthday or for another noteworthy occasion that has tempted her to go down memory lane). She’s also trying to fill in the missing blanks, searching for subtle additional context.
There is also a reason to believe that this vacation was the last time they saw each other and that Calum possibly knew as much, considering he didn’t exactly have the kind of money for such luxurious travel in the first place, goes about preparing his daughter with life lessons in defending herself in a fight, offers things he knows he can’t provide (which Sophie sees through and calls him out on) and generally seems overwhelmed and burdened from the role of being a young father. Everything about the vacation feels like a final memory, an extended opportunity to impart as much wisdom as possible, and something to remember forever.
On that note, it’s easy to imagine the emotional impact amplified for those who also grew up with parents that felt more like friends or were mistaken for siblings due to closeness in age (only a few days ago, someone had a similar misconception regarding one of my family members). The same applies to those that are young parents in similar mental spaces. Regardless, one is inevitably swept up in the moving finale set to Queen and David Bowie’s Under Pressure, swirling together one last rush of gorgeous emotion properly conveying the stress and, well, the pressure of young parenting and facing the challenge.
To clear something up right away, none of this means Calum doesn’t love Sophie. It’s quite the contrary, as he is nurturing and thoughtful while they enjoy time in swimming pools, sightseeing, concert dinners, and playfully joke around. But an emptiness sometimes manifests regrettable behavior, such as shunning her during karaoke night; Sophie performs the song, R.E.M.’s Losing My Religion, in one of the film’s strongest, most tender moments. This likely goes beyond not feeling adequately equipped financially, mentally, and with enough experience to be a positive role model and force for good in Sophie’s life, as there is a piercing line of dialogue where Calum expresses surprise that he even made it to 30 years old, let alone wondering what 40 will be like. Calum also often meditates in his battle against this existential crisis, which eventually turns into full-on dancing alongside his daughter (naturally, she thinks his moves are silly and embarrassing).
His injuries and much of his inner darkness are left unexplained, which will understandably frustrate viewers (and I will concede that some areas are too vague for their own good), but it is by design. To let that color opinion of the movie is, of course, well within someone’s right, but the wrong way to engage with this story and these characters. It speaks to Calum’s inability to discuss these issues, effectively pointing out that these conversations are necessary for one’s mental health.
As grainy home video starts and stops, narratively presented as beautifully somewhere between present and memory by reflections of adult Sophie in the television, her curiosity and desire to understand more aligns with ours. There is also a scene where Sophie and Calum have a picture taken together, with the film practically stopping to ensure that we watch it develop, not necessarily indulging in the shot but emphasizing how much history and story goes into a single image. Photographs are points in time that can endlessly be expanded upon, just like Aftersun. This vacation is also where Sophie had her first kiss, although she now lives with and loves a woman, placing another layer of depth onto revisiting these formative days.
The usage of past technology for creating a time capsule is delicately executed, with arcades, video recorders, and music (if it’s not yet clear, the song selection here is outstanding and relevant) to immerse us into the era. It feels odd to say that the 1990s are period piece territory, but Charlotte Wells uses everything about it to her advantage artistically and narratively.
The incredible performances from Paul Mescal and Frankie Corio are lived-in enough to the point where it’s difficult to comprehend that they are characters rather than real people, which allows that element of the unknown to feel more tangible and complex. Nearly every single frame of Aftersun is also carefully considered and artistically composed; this might not be a big-screen experience in narrative scope, but regarding the visuals on the screen, Aftersun deserves that experience and attention that shouldn’t be relegated to blockbusters packed with action explosions. There is both visible and hidden depth in this richly textured father-daughter drama that will instantly have one combing through the memories again.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
