Charlotte Wells’s Aftersun may not make you cry, but what the intimate and haunting film lacks in melodrama it makes up for with a refreshing sense of realism, technical precision, and a subtle, delicate, and very deliberate directorial approach.
Overall Score: 10/10
Image: A24
Ah, Aftersun… A part of me wishes I’d seen it sooner, but I’m also glad that I waited to see it on the big screen. Taking place in a resort in Turkey, the indie drama film follows 11-year-old Sophie as she spends time with Calum, her 30-year-old father on their vacation. This is a rather simple premise, yes (at least on the surface), but what writer-director Charlotte Wells does with it is nothing short of astonishing.
Aftersun is a very deliberate movie, and what I mean by that is that there is a precise intention behind everything it does. Wells uses very specific techniques when it comes to things like framing, lighting, cinematography, and even editing. Furthermore, she makes very carefully calculated directorial decisions (e.g. limiting the audience’s view of her characters to their reflections on a TV screen or having the camera linger on them and their surroundings) that are always purposeful and meaningful, and what’s impressive is that ultimately, all of these different things play key roles in shaping how the film and its story are presented.
Interestingly, the significance of these creative choices may not be immediately obvious to you. This very clearly seems to be Wells’s intent, however, and throughout the entirety of Aftersun, she leaves these subtle details for you to take note of along the way. Only when the film rolls into its last five minutes does everything click into place, and it’s during those final moments that the full weight of what Wells has so carefully and deftly crafted really hits you.
That being said, Aftersun isn’t really a movie that makes you cry. I mean, sure, I left the theater feeling sad and deeply touched, but it wasn’t to the point where I found myself weeping. But it seems that Wells didn’t intend to create a tear-jerker. No. Instead, her goal is to make her film linger in your mind, haunt you, long after you’ve finished watching it, and a big part of why this works is because she approaches her work with a fresh sense of realism. Everything in the film, from the characters to the plot, is just so realistic and beautifully mundane. There are no melodramatic sequences specifically designed to tug at your heartstrings. Honestly, this is refreshing, and it’s nice to see a filmmaker not being heavy-handed for once and choosing to utilize how audiences invest emotionally in the characters and their relationships. It’s simple and it’s effective, and even now, I sometimes find myself thinking back to all of the different moments shared by Sophie and Calum, longing for them as if I had experienced and been a part of them myself.
To be perfectly honest, this is not exactly an actor’s movie. I’m not saying that there isn’t great acting here, it’s just that this isn’t the kind of film where the cast gets to show off their range. Instead, I feel like the acting style perfectly reflects the movie’s realism. First off, Frankie Corio is great in this. Not many kids can act that well, and the fact that she doesn’t seem to be acting at all speaks volumes about how talented she is. But it was Paul Mescal’s performance that really stuck with me, long after the credits began to roll. His portrayal of Calum is extremely understated yet beautiful and intricately layered, and he does such a good job of selling the character as a real person to the point where it’s enough to make you want to reach through the screen and hug him.
In conclusion, Aftersun is one of the best, most deliberate, subtle, realistic, and beautiful films I’ve ever seen. Everything about it is phenomenal, and I’d even go as far as to say that Charlotte Wells has made an absolute masterpiece. It’s a shame that this movie hasn’t gotten more love from the major industry awards groups, but I’m nonetheless stoked about Paul Mescal’s nomination for Best Actor at this year’s Oscars. It is well-deserved and a great addition to the already outstanding lineup of nominees.
Even if you aren’t a cinephile, I’d recommend checking this little independent film out. Yes, it’s slow and it’s sad, and it does require a certain amount of interpretation, but once you’ve seen it in its entirety and fully understand it, I think that you’ll find yourself quietly marveling at its beauty and realizing just how unforgettable an experience it truly is.
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