Aftersun
Charlotte Wells’ highly acclaimed first feature – and winner of seven BIFAs – is brilliantly acted but unlikely to please all.
Frankie Corio and Paul Mescal
This first feature is the work of a Scottish filmmaker, Charlotte Wells, who is based in New York but has chosen to set her film in a coastal resort in Turkey. It is there that Calum (Paul Mescal) and his 11-year-old daughter, Sophie (Frankie Corio), have arrived on a package holiday at a time when Sophie is living with her mother in Glasgow. It is apparent that Calum is either divorced or separated, although still in touch by telephone with his former partner to whom Sophie will return once the holiday ends. This is taking place in the 1990s but what we see includes camcorder footage taken at that time by father and daughter and the film indicates that this is being viewed by Sophie years later having grown into adulthood.
Aftersun was screened at this year's Cannes Film Festival and since then quite a buzz has grown up around it with many critics regarding it as a masterpiece. I find it hard to understand why although that is certainly not to say that the film lacks anything of quality. On the contrary, for it contains two outstanding performances. The child actress Frankie Corio is quite exceptional, wholly natural and at ease in front of the camera, while Paul Mescal matches her in a way that ensures that their two performances are perfectly attuned. It is also the case that the screenplay confirms that Charlotte Wells has immense insight into finding the right dialogue for these two characters. Together these three talents create a wonderfully convincing portrayal of the father/daughter relationship. It's one in which Calum shows tenderness and concern leading to remorse on the one occasion when he lets his daughter down. As for young Sophie, she clearly enjoys dad’s company even if she can be embarrassed by his behaviour (as when he wants to dance and she regards his contortions as embarrassing).
Aftersun might indeed have been a great film but for the fact that this unconventional work is weighed down by decisions which in combination sink the ship. First, Wells opts to minimise the story element by excluding any sense of plot or development. Consequently, hardly anything overtly dramatic is allowed to happen (the only exception is the event for which Calum feels remorse, an evening when he got drunk and failed to look after Sophie but which had no serious consequences for her). Secondly, Wells concentrates on father and daughter to the extent that virtually all the other characters seen on screen – be they other visitors, hotel staff, or a carpet dealer – have no individual impact. Judged as incidentals, these people do two things: they add to the conviction of the film’s portrayal of this kind of holiday abroad (songs on the soundtrack usefully serve to underscore the period atmosphere) and Sophie’s increasing awareness of other kids being preoccupied by thoughts of sex does lead to her getting a kiss which is doubtless her first. But, convincing as all this is, it does not carry the film since the outwardly uneventful holiday is for the viewer convincing but close to being boring.
Two other decisions are no less important. It emerges that by putting the focus on Sophie and on her looking back as an adult Wells is seeking to suggest two things: first that Calum was hiding from Sophie the fact that he was undergoing a breakdown, probably one born of mental health issues, and secondly that Sophie is now asking herself if she should have detected this despite having been a mere child at the time. Wells chooses to express this by pretending to see events through Sophie's eyes. I use the word ‘pretending’ because there are shots here of Calum which the child did not witness but, despite their presence, only hints and oblique indications about Calum’s state are provided. We never see things through his eyes nor are we given enough specific information to clarify what may well be the extremity of his condition (we can guess what his fate is, but we are never told).
The final fatal decision taken by Wells is to film the narrative in a way that all too readily confuses the viewer. It is much more than just the rather distracting jumps between the video footage supposedly taken by Calum and Sophie and the footage which has no source but Wells herself. There is also stylisation that is sometimes linked to time switches. The holiday scenes lack a clear sense of the passing of the days but inserted into them we find also shots which just appear. One example is the repetition at intervals of images of dancers on a full floor under strobe lighting which may well be a flash forward but the purpose of which is obscure. One striking moment sees the slow merging of Calum viewed on his birthday when he is greeted with acclaim with another image of him that reveals him at his most distressed. The transformation is such that the stylised blending of the images becomes self-conscious and furthermore we don't know if the shot of his despair is a flash forward or another moment during the holiday but one that is hidden. Again and again we are left to unravel what we are shown with a minimum of help.
Mescal and Corio are superb and both the portrait of a child on the cusp of self-assertion and the father/daughter bond are presented with real distinction. There is too a scene almost at the end which using a song over images of a last dance for once carries real emotional weight. Nevertheless, I can only regret that the film’s overriding conception creates such a barrier to appreciation. I think that some will share my view but am certain that in many quarters the acclaim will continue to build. I just wish that I could believe that it is justified.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Paul Mescal, Frankie Corio, Celia Rowlson-Hall, Brooklyn Toulson, Cafer Karahan, Spike Fearn, Kayleigh Coleman, Harry Perdios, Ruby Thompson, Ethan Smith, Onur Ekşioğlu, Kieran Burton.
Dir Charlotte Wells, Pro Mark Ceryak, Amy Jackson, Barry Jenkins and Adele Romanski, Screenplay Charlotte Wells, Ph Gregory Oke, Pro Des Billur Turan, Ed Blair McClendon, Music Oliver Coates, Costumes Frank Gallacher.
A PASTEL/Unified Theory production/BBC Films/BFI/Screen Scotland/Tango-Mubi.
101 mins. UK. 2022. US Rel: 21 October2022. UK Rel: 18 November 2022. Cert. 12A.
