Aftersun

Aftersun

Starring Paul Mescal, Frankie Corio, Brooklyn Toulson, Celia Rowlson-Hall

Directed by Charlotte Wells

Sometimes there's movies that are so subtly powerful you don't notice it until the final crushing moment, and you're left wondering what the heck just happened, but after pondering the small, minute moments that the film drops here and there, you suddenly realize the entire point and are left spellbound by it. "Aftersun" is one such film, a movie that, on the surface, looks like a nice, relaxing vacation for a young single father and his eleven-year-old daughter, but as you peel away the layers and catch the greater meaning, you notice that it's nothing like what you expect: instead of a feel-good family vacation, it's the last vestige of innocence.

Taking his eleven-year-old daughter on a trip to Turkey, young single father Calum (Paul Mescal) wants to make it special for Sophie (Frankie Corio) before she returns to her mother, whom she's living with. As the days progress at the hotel, the two spend practically every moment together, with Frankie recording the events for posterity. Yet as it seems that they're both having a great time, Calum showcases small moments of depression that he thinks Sophie doesn't pick up on, but she's wise beyond her years and, even though she doesn't fully understand, knows something is off with her father.

"Aftersun" is the fantastic debut film directed and written by Charlotte Wells loosely based on a holiday she went on with her father, and the father/daughter bond is incredibly strong here. Both Paul Mescal and Frankie Corio spent two weeks together before shooting to get that father and daughter dynamic just right, and their friendship was so strong that they remain in contact to this day. This special pre-planning shows in the film's powerful story, as you fully believe that you're watching home videos of a loving father and his smart eleven-year-old daughter. More than that, the story delves into the mental illness of depression and sadness in a very subtle, simplistic way that you'd easily miss if you didn't catch the cues scattered throughout, and once the final scene hits it does so in a way that leaves your jaw on the floor, your mind reeling over what you just watched and catching on to the main story that's being told under the surface.

That story focuses on Paul Mescal's Calum, a man who's about to turn thirty-one, and is personally surprised he made it that far, doubting he'll make it to forty. He is estranged from his significant other, and doesn't get to see his daughter often - so he takes her on a Turkish vacation in hopes of spending some good, quality time with her. Yet while they're on vacation his mind is still on the worries and cares that he harbors deep within - mostly concerning finances, but also other factors play into his growing depression and sadness. He clearly wants to do right for his daughter, but he's so bogged down by the cares of the world it clouds his ability to fully immerse himself in the experience, but he thinks he's doing a good job at keeping it a secret. Yet Sophie knows something is up, and despite Calum's best intentions to keep them hidden, she picks up on the negative energy that emits from him.

"Aftersun" focuses on the memory we have of our parents when we're children, as we often see them as superheroes: people who are infallible, incapable of imperfections, but also understanding somewhere deep down that not everything is as perfect as it seems. Told through memory, an older Sophie looks back at the videos from her vacation with her father and pieces together the parts that she doesn't see, and wonders what Calum was going through in those moments. Seeing him crying, swaying as he smokes a cigarette, and practices Tai Chi all give an underlying sense of sadness that one can't quite explain. Much like feeling tired after being out in the sun, there's fleeting moment of sadness "just because," and that's something both Calum and Sophie endure on their trip. Though filmed through sunshiny colorful moments by cinematographer Gregory Oke, the film is also splattered with a strobe light raver that doesn't seem to fit within the confines of the story, but only after it ends do you fully realize its purpose - and it absolutely breaks your heart.

Paul Mescal gives a commanding, rousing performance as Calum, a man who's troubled and tortured, but tries to hide it from his daughter so she can have the time of her life. Even though she notices something is amiss, he keeps trying to give her a good time despite worrying about the financial strain of it all. Much like a lot of people who enter their adulthood years, Calum has regrets and never expected to be in the situation he finds himself in, which adds to the melancholy undercurrent of the story. Balancing these hard-hitting themes in a nuanced way propels Mescal to A-list status, proving himself to be a highly capable dramatic actor who can tackle the hard-hitting issues with finesse, grace, and sincerity.

After auditioning over 800 young girls, Charlotte Wells chose newcomer Frankie Corio to play Sophie, and the young up-and-comer proves that she has staying power with her dominant performance. While parents hide their insecurities from their children, sometimes they can pick up on that, and young Sophie proves herself more intelligent than other girls in this respect. When she accidentally loses a pair of goggles in the sea, she laments to her father and apologizes, saying she knows the goggles were expensive. When he tells her he'll pay for singing lessons for her, she tells him not to make promises like that because she knows he can't afford it. Corio herself is as wise as her character counterpart, and uses her talents to great effect, much like another young newcomer - Brooklynn Prince - did in "The Florida Project." Though she knows something is off, her vacation is mostly drama free and as the older Sophie watches the tapes, she realizes now that she's the same age as her father was then all the secrets that he was keeping from her - something that only happens when you get older and realize the world isn't a sunny wonderland like you think when you're younger.

While other films beat you over the head with its themes, "Aftersun" allows you to piece together the missing parts much like the older Sophie does, helping to meld the fog of memory with the darker truth in subtle, emotional ways that resonate when you don't expect them to. This is an incredibly slow-burn movie, but it sets your heart on fire at the end, serving its purpose for anyone brave enough to endure it.

The Score: A+