I’ve often thought about what it would look like if I made a movie about my father. It would probably resemble Charlotte Wells’ feature debut, Aftersun, a heartbreakingly beautiful look at an 11-year-old girl’s fond, complex memories of her father. A spiritual sequel to her 2015 short, Tuesday, the film explores how we remember those we have loved and lost, even those who are ultimately unknowable.
In one of the earliest scenes, Sophie (newcomer Frankie Corio, a true find) sleeps peacefully in her bed at a Turkish resort while on holiday. Her father, Calum (Paul Mescal) is seen in the background, just outside struggling to take a drag from a cigarette. His arm injured and in a cast, he awkwardly gets it right after a few tries, then settles in a weird sort of tranquil dance. Swaying rhythmically to either music in his own head or the steady breathing of his daughter, Calum is caught in a moment of such quiet peace that we know it must be a rarity for him. There is noise in his mind. Something constant nagging at him. That’s all we know.
Much of Aftersun centers on this mystery, but this isn’t a movie that offers any hard answers. Told largely from Sophie’s perspective, it has a childlike view that a daughter might have of her father. She loves him, idolizes him, and even if she knows something is wrong she’s too young to put a finger on it. Even more, at 11 years old she’s beginning to discover new things about herself, and that is enough to make anybody a bit selfish.
Some will say nothing happens in Aftersun, but they couldn’t be more wrong. Without having everything spelled out, it’s clear that Sophie’s parents are separated and these trips to stay with her father don’t happen often. They’ve gone to spend a welcome holiday at a Turkish resort, a fairly cheap one by the looks of it. Calum doesn’t appear to be a man of much wealth. He’s very young and gives the impression that things aren’t going well and the one thing he has to be proud of is Sophie. He makes a lot of promises early on that sound like an estranged parent trying to win over a child, but it becomes clear that he doesn’t need to. There’s a lot of love between them.
They do fight. She’s a young, pre-adolescent girl. Of course, she’s going to be a bit rebellious. And he’s imperfect, clearly struggling with…something. These disputes don’t last long, usually cared by an apology and some kind of treat, or a splash in the pool. Sophie explores her independence by hanging out with kids slightly older than her, and by befriending a boy at the arcade.
Paul gets some alone time, too. It’s interesting these moments when Sophie is not there, clearly, extrapolations by adult Sophie (Celia Rowlson-Hall) trying to piece together the father she adored but knew was having problems. Other surreal sequences find Sophie and Calum on a nightclub dance floor. Him, moving to the music, her watching in an attempt to unlock what was really going on inside that head of his.
I don’t blame Wells for getting a bit indulgent with Aftersun. If this were my first movie and it was about my memories of my father, it would be an eight-hour exercise the studio would have to rip from my hands. It does sometimes feel like it’s standing in place at times, and perhaps that is Wells trying to hold on to these precious memories. Aftersun feels like that kind of movie. Along with the amazing, natural chemistry between Mescal and Corio, it’s just one of those movies that you can tell was so special for the filmmaker to make. The care and attention given to every single frame is evident right from the beginning. When so many films nowadays are cold, impersonal studio products it’s such a treat to get one that can only be told in this way by one filmmaker.
Aftersun is open in theaters now.
