Aftersun (A- or 3.5/4 stars)
'Aftersun' (written & directed by Charlotte Wells) captures a father/daughter moment frozen in time -- a movie where the daughter's haunting, scattershot memories make her try to reconcile the father she knew with the man she, perhaps, didn't. This film is a mixture of snippets of the daughter's memories, as well as home video footage of a vacation she spent with her father long ago and ... the resulting effect is both cryptic & melancholy. The film is told in a series of mercurial flashbacks, as the adult daughter, Sophie (Celia Rowlinson-Hall), now 30 or so, married to her wife, & expecting her 1st child, recalls with fondness & some mystery the time she spent in 1999 when her dad took her to a British tourist resort in Turkey at age 11.
Calum (Paul Mescal) was 19 yrs. old when Sophie (Frankie Corio) was born and, they often act like big brother & little sister; horsing around & making goofball fun of each other. It is briefly brought up that Calum is no longer with Sophie's mom. Calum & Sophie have an ease together lazing away days basking in the sun by the pool, snorkeling, eating, gazing up at paragliders, singing Karaoke, or shooting billiards; the latter activity draws Sophie into a group of older teens impressed with her skills.
All seems swell on the surface as Sophie lovingly records this vacay on her handheld camcorder. But there is something palpable weighing down on Calum; a wistful loneliness & a dark cloud punctuated by stolen moments where we see that his body language & actions don't align with his typically fun, carefree, gentle dad mode. He's also a mess of contradictions - a boisterous-then-taciturn guy who practices Tai Chi & meditation books, yet also wears a cast on an unexplained broken wrist. He also says that he has no $$, and yet, here they are on a lovely holiday & with him haphazardly purchasing an expensive Turkish carpet for Sophie.
Without going into further details, this 'slice of life' narrative does not make for a concrete 'plot', per say. But the mystery that hangs in the air about Sophie in the now, Sophie back then, and what she sees about her father AS an adult looking back at her camcorder videos ... informs why she never saw him again after that holiday. The writing & direction by Scottish newcomer Charlotte Wells {this is loosely based on her childhood} is strong. It is a lyrical movie whose revelations are small in actuality, but BIG in emotional resonance. And I praise the work by her editor, Blair McClendon, who smoothly and wonderfully interweaves Sophie's stream of consciousness in the past & present.
In young Sophie, Wells found the perfect actress in Frankie Corio; who wholly convinces as a free-spirited, keenly intuitive girl on the cusp of adolescence with love for her dad & burgeoning hormonal feelings for the kids around her. That she has these feelings for kids 'on vacation' rings so true. I recall many a vacation as a child where I attached feelings towards various other kids who weren't from back home.
And Irish actor Paul Mescal is a revelation. He impressed me in last yr.'s The Lost Daughter & this yr.'s heavvvy drama, God's Creatures. But this film is a showcase of what beautifully modulated, subtle acting he can bring. His Calum is the type of guy we want to know: attractive, fun-loving, kind. But then we see several readings of him, here: the playful dad that young Sophie sees ... the young man who is clearly depressed ... and the version in the middle that older Sophie is trying to make heads or tails with as she recalls the last time she ever saw him that week in Turkey.
Calum is a gentle soul, but a lost one. And that is evident in a pivotal sequence at a nighttime party. At first, we think Calum is having a blast dancing to David Bowie/Queen's "Under Pressure". But as the scene plays out, with careful attention, we see quick cuts of Sophie with him at both age 11 & now in the present, and two entirely different interpretations of Calum: joyfully dancing to the song, and then in-between the flickering beams of the strobe lighting, we see a disturbingly anguished Calum. And we realize that adult Sophie is looking back at this memory through the hazy prism of time to finally make sense of her father's absence in her life thereafter. And the very last scene of the film is just beautiful: sad, haunting, but cathartic.
'Aftersun' is a superb debut, deeply emotional, and goes to show that - sometimes - we never 100% know each other, even the ones we love most.
Calum (Paul Mescal) was 19 yrs. old when Sophie (Frankie Corio) was born and, they often act like big brother & little sister; horsing around & making goofball fun of each other. It is briefly brought up that Calum is no longer with Sophie's mom. Calum & Sophie have an ease together lazing away days basking in the sun by the pool, snorkeling, eating, gazing up at paragliders, singing Karaoke, or shooting billiards; the latter activity draws Sophie into a group of older teens impressed with her skills.
All seems swell on the surface as Sophie lovingly records this vacay on her handheld camcorder. But there is something palpable weighing down on Calum; a wistful loneliness & a dark cloud punctuated by stolen moments where we see that his body language & actions don't align with his typically fun, carefree, gentle dad mode. He's also a mess of contradictions - a boisterous-then-taciturn guy who practices Tai Chi & meditation books, yet also wears a cast on an unexplained broken wrist. He also says that he has no $$, and yet, here they are on a lovely holiday & with him haphazardly purchasing an expensive Turkish carpet for Sophie.
Without going into further details, this 'slice of life' narrative does not make for a concrete 'plot', per say. But the mystery that hangs in the air about Sophie in the now, Sophie back then, and what she sees about her father AS an adult looking back at her camcorder videos ... informs why she never saw him again after that holiday. The writing & direction by Scottish newcomer Charlotte Wells {this is loosely based on her childhood} is strong. It is a lyrical movie whose revelations are small in actuality, but BIG in emotional resonance. And I praise the work by her editor, Blair McClendon, who smoothly and wonderfully interweaves Sophie's stream of consciousness in the past & present.
In young Sophie, Wells found the perfect actress in Frankie Corio; who wholly convinces as a free-spirited, keenly intuitive girl on the cusp of adolescence with love for her dad & burgeoning hormonal feelings for the kids around her. That she has these feelings for kids 'on vacation' rings so true. I recall many a vacation as a child where I attached feelings towards various other kids who weren't from back home.
And Irish actor Paul Mescal is a revelation. He impressed me in last yr.'s The Lost Daughter & this yr.'s heavvvy drama, God's Creatures. But this film is a showcase of what beautifully modulated, subtle acting he can bring. His Calum is the type of guy we want to know: attractive, fun-loving, kind. But then we see several readings of him, here: the playful dad that young Sophie sees ... the young man who is clearly depressed ... and the version in the middle that older Sophie is trying to make heads or tails with as she recalls the last time she ever saw him that week in Turkey.
Calum is a gentle soul, but a lost one. And that is evident in a pivotal sequence at a nighttime party. At first, we think Calum is having a blast dancing to David Bowie/Queen's "Under Pressure". But as the scene plays out, with careful attention, we see quick cuts of Sophie with him at both age 11 & now in the present, and two entirely different interpretations of Calum: joyfully dancing to the song, and then in-between the flickering beams of the strobe lighting, we see a disturbingly anguished Calum. And we realize that adult Sophie is looking back at this memory through the hazy prism of time to finally make sense of her father's absence in her life thereafter. And the very last scene of the film is just beautiful: sad, haunting, but cathartic.
'Aftersun' is a superb debut, deeply emotional, and goes to show that - sometimes - we never 100% know each other, even the ones we love most.