Aftersun (2022) review
This feels like the sort of film which a lot of directors would make towards the end of their career. They've honed their craft, and now they're ready to dive into their past to tell a story that requires a mastery of subtlety. But somehow Charlotte Wells has managed to have that same quiet confidence in her very first feature film, and it's genuinely astounding to watch.
The full impact of Aftersun didn't hit me until it was over, but during the movie I immediately grappled onto the way that it perfectly captures memory. We focus on little details, like when we slightly bumped our elbow on someone, or the way someone was moving their wrist. But we also recognise things that we were too young to fully grasp, by picking up on little clues that you can only register if you have context. And that's the brilliance of Aftersun: The main story is one that's never even remotely stated directly.
Paul Mescal is absolutely heartbreaking in this movie, and he's doing something so subtle. The entire movie hinges on us seeing through the cracks ever so slightly. Recognising that his smile is a fake smile, but understanding how Sophie could think it's real. Their doesn't need to be a reason, but we see plenty of potential factors which could worsen depression. We see his guilt and his shame, but we also see his pure selfless love for his daughter carry him through when he's essentially dragging himself through brittle gravel.
I can only judge from my own experiences, but for my money this is one of the most truthful representations of depression I've ever seen. It's not melodramatic or overdone, it's totally invisible even though it's eating you on the inside. There's also a fear of exposing those feelings to anyone else, whether that's because we're afraid of being a burden, being judged, or passing our feelings on. I think you can see the latter in Calum, and you can register the self loathing he feels because he believes he's passed this curse onto his pure, innocent daughter.
It's not exactly light material, but this movie is still a love letter no matter how tragic it is. We see a child discovering attraction from a natural place of curiosity and innocence, and most importantly we see a father and a daughter who care about each other tremendously. In some ways that makes the movie all the more gut wrenching, but I think there's a lot of value in those feelings.
These kinds of movies feel like very necessary exercises in empathy. Sometimes we need to be reminded of our deeper struggles, or the struggles of others, to avoid becoming ignorant. While we try our best to become happier and healthier, it's important along the way to remember what it's like so that we can do our part in helping others.
