Aftersun by Charlotte Wells
The other day I randomly picked a movie from my watchlist and went in blind. That movie was Aftersun, directed by Charlotte Wells.
Oh man.
The synopsis gave me some sense of what I was about to get into, but the emotional impact of it still hit me like a brick wall:
Sophie reflects on the shared joy and private melancholy of a holiday she took with her father twenty years earlier. Memories fill the gaps between camcorder footages as she tries to reconcile the father she knew with the troubled man she didn’t.
Aftersun is an extremely slow film that you need to be patient with. At times—especially in the first half of the 101 minute run time—it feels like there's no plot to speak of.
We see intimate, everyday moments of a father (Calum, played by Paul Mescal) and daughter (Sophie, played by Frankie Corio) on a holiday. The movie takes its time and gives a tremendous amount of space to let both characters breathe—often quite literally.
As Aftersun progresses, we start to realize that Calum is struggling mentally, but also trying to hold things together and be a good father for Sophie. The sort of parental relationship it doesn't seem like he had himself. Or perhaps he's more focused on creating a few intentional memories with a daughter he might not see grow up.
The movie contrasts how both Calum and Sophie view time.
This is clearly a coming-of-age moment for Sophie, who has her entire life in front of her, while Calum openly says he's surprised he made it to 30 and doubts he'll see 40.
The conversation of their last dinner takes on a haunting new meaning after you realize where we're ultimately heading, and is brutal to see on a second viewing:
Calum: "Did you have a good holiday then?"
Sophie: "The best. Wish we could have stayed for longer."
Calum: "Me too. What?"
Sophie: "I mean, why can't we?"
Calum: "What do you mean?"
Sophie: "Why can't we just stay here?"
Watching the light go out of Calum's eyes when Sophie talks about wanting to stay for longer is heartbreaking. The camera transitions to a close up shot of a developing polaroid of the two of them for the second half of the conversation, making everything hit home harder.
The current moment is already becoming just another memory.
The movie does an excellent job layering in hints about what's coming, and many of the earlier scenes you might have taken for granted at first actually wind up being loaded with meaning with more context. The carpet scene perhaps serves as the best example of this. We the viewer get to process all of this in the same way that adult Sophie does while reviewing the home video footage of the trip a few decades later.
Aftersun is exceptionally well-made, and the more I think about it the better it gets. The performances of the main characters in a movie like this have to be great for the film to resonate, and both Mescal and Corio absolutely deliver.
I'm assuming this movie is one that's even better on a rewatch. And I would be more eager to revisit it sooner if it wasn't so brutally sad.
Overall: 70
I use the 20-80 scale to rate things.
- I appreciated this video review of Aftersun and would recommend it as well.