Aftersun
In “Aftersun,” Charlotte Wells turns the camera into something that reveals more than what the person it’s filming lets on. That is always the case, but here, it feels as though it captures something internal rather than external. There’s a moment where Sophie’s father asks her to turn it off; she doesn’t, but even when it’s not facing him, he can’t bear to let it see what he feels he’s revealing. I love that, as that scene plays out, we see them in the reflection of the TV; it’s a perfect reflection of what’s going on emotionally in that scene.
When I began to go through the pictures over at my mom’s house when she went into assisted living, memories of moments- some of which had nothing to do with what I was looking at- came back to me. Pictures and videos of our loved ones can help us reconnect with them in a way that we forgot we were connected to them in the first place. I remember vividly loved ones I have recent and distinct memories with, but not so much with others. Wells is looking at a particular moment between a father and daughter, one with many highs and lows. It’s a beautiful, quiet study in how we sometimes do not see something in a parent until much later, and it resonates hard in that respect.
Set in the ’90s, Calum (Paul Mescal) and his 11-year-old daughter, Sophie (Frankie Corio), are on a trip to Turkey before Sophie goes back to school. Extremely young-looking, Calum is often mistaken for being Sophie’s brother instead of her father, but we definitely see the father-daughter dynamic play out over their time together. This is one of those trips that will stick with both individuals for the rest of their lives, whether it’s as a reminder of better times, or of a haunting reminder of when something cracked in their relationship. Calum seems like something’s off with him- he’s separated from Sophie’s mother- but he also gives her a wide berth to be herself. That doesn’t come without risks, however.
The camera changes the way we react to certain scenes. I’m not just talking about the camera father and daughter are using to document their journey, but Gregory Oke’s cinematography, as well. There are times when we see Sophie as an adult (played by Celia Rowlson-Hall), and it makes us wonder how much of this is her watching the tapes, and how much of this is from memory? There’s certainly moments that feel definitely like the camera observing the action, but there are also times where it has a specific point-of-view. And yet, there are also scenes that feel like emotional reactions to what Sophie is remembering, such as a late scene in their trip where father and daughter dance to Queen’s “Under Pressure,” and it feels like a moment of emotional release, as well as one of surreal hope to hold on to a moment she will never get back.
“Aftersun” is ultimately built on the performances by Mescal and Corio, and they are fantastic together. They are believable as a father and daughter, as well as people trying to appreciate life, even when it throws us challenges we won’t understand until later. There’s some ambiguity that might catch people in the film, but ultimately, Wells tells her story in a way we can empathize with entirely, and understand fully. It’s a powerful, personal experience.
