‘Aftersun:’ A subdued story with devastating consequences


There is something painful about recognizing that your parents are just as human as you are, complete with their own wants, needs and complexities. Parenthood is a responsibility not enthusiastically welcomed by all; many scrape by, trying to do the best they can, no matter the circumstances they’ve been left to operate within. “Aftersun” delicately sheds light on the emotional turmoil of being a provider and the duplicity of our memory.

“Aftersun” is written and directed by Charlotte Wells in her feature filmmaking debut and stars the equally graceful Paul Mescal (“Normal People,”  “The Lost Daughter” (2021)) and Frankie Corio (in her acting debut) as Calum and Sophie, a father-daughter duo on holiday in Turkey. Celia Rowson-Hall plays an adult Sophie, who recalls this holiday with her father several years later. 

Distributed by A24, the film’s producers include Barry Jenkins, who directed and co-wrote Best Picture winner “Moonlight” (2016). Jenkins’ inclusion in this project seems rather fitting, as the narrative and visual poignancy of his work feel like a critical touchpoint for Wells with “Aftersun.” 

Told partially through fragmented home video footage, the film’s episodic narrative is content to drift between sequences like the ebb and flow of the waves Calum and Sophie gleefully splash around toward the beginning of the film. Sophie alternates between past and present states, reveling in the awkward joy of being reunited with her separated father over quiet meals and sunny romps at their resort. 

There’s a constant sense of melancholy pervading each interaction between Sophie and her father, as if the brilliant façade of their holiday could crumble at any moment no matter how jovial they appear. In one of the film’s earliest and most affecting sequences, the camera lingers on Sophie lying awake in bed in the foreground, her father in the background separated by a sliding door. Outside on the balcony, bathed in silver moonlight, her father desperately attempts to light a cigarette with a broken wrist. It’s one of several instances in the film where the audience’s perception of Calum aligns with Sophie’s, who only comes to realize the gravity of her father’s fallibility as an adult. Although aloof and afraid, Calum desperately craves to provide his daughter with stability.

The film’s emotional impact is maximized by its consistently stellar visual compositions and fascinating editing choices. Filmed on location in Turkey, the film primarily works in intoxicating blue hues; daydreams fade into one another as blue skies meld with crystal-clear waters. 

Cinematographer Gregory Oke frames his subjects with magnificent empathy; shots of a young Sophie grinning up at her father are warm, joyous and radiating with daylight, which are contrasted with the uncertainty and darkness of sequences shooting an adult Sophie who attempts to reconcile the man she thought her father was with who he actually was (which the film sparsely shares concrete details about). 

In one standout sequence, a lone Sophie stumbles upon a group of teenagers by the resort pool who push each other into the water, their bodies intertwining and mingling like fish in the sea. Sophie looks on with wide-eyed wonder, her perspective filtered through the fluid and shifting underwater cinematography. There’s a hazy sheen to each memory that pads out the film’s narrative, which is complemented by the cinematography. 

The visual effects of the glitching home video sequences obfuscate Sophie’s recollections of her father, adding an eerie undertone to what initially appear to be cheery memories. The film’s expansive visuals provide viewers with a gateway into the rich interior lives of Sophie and her father.

To be frank, “Aftersun” left behind a slightly tepid feeling with several unanswered questions. Many uncertainties arise about Calum and his relationship with Sophie, as well as who exactly adult Sophie is, but the film seems to be uninterested in pointing viewers toward any definitive conclusions about the characters it depicts. 

The heart of this film revolves around the tender chemistry between Mescal and Corio, whose unwavering resolve to love one another (for better or for worse) elevates these already impressively-written characters. “Aftersun” may not satisfy every single moviegoer’s cravings, but it does fit comfortably into A24’s existing library and serves as a stirring showcase of Mescal and Corio’s top-notch performances as well as Wells’s filmmaking ability.