OSCARS 2023: Aftersun (2022)

A24 has come a long way from “A Glimpse Inside the Mind of Charles Swan III.” The distributor and production company, specializing in modestly budgeted films from up-and-coming talent and high-profile directors, has perhaps become the defining name in modern indie cinema. In addition to defining the look and feel for what art house movies are in 2023, A24 has also slowly become an awards season powerhouse. This year has been especially fruitful for the studio, as six of their movies are nominated at the Oscars. (Including the presumed Best Picture champion.) Among the less written about nominees is “Aftersun,” the feature debut of short filmmaker Charlotte Wells. Paul Mescal received a Best Actor nominee which was a bit of a surprise, considering the movie was largely not in the Oscars conversation before the nominees were announced.

The film follows Sophia, a twelve year old girl on a vacation at a Turkish resort with her father, Calum. Calum's 31st birthday is a few days away and he's clearly feeling some angst over it. Sophia, who documents the trip with a MiniDV camcorder, is at that awkward age where she's trying to define herself but is still filled with childish naivety. Calum does his best to teach and protect his daughter, while clearly grappling with regrets and pains of his own. In particular, he seems to be estranged from the mother of his child. As an adult, Sophia looks back on this formative time in her life. 

“Aftersun” is one of those indie dramas that imply everything and reveal almost nothing. We never learn what exactly went down between Calum and Sophia's mother, some sort of separation only being hinted at through terse phone conversations and brief mentions. At the beginning of the film, Calum has a cast on his one arm, the origins of which are never expounded on. It's clear that Calum has mental health struggles of his own, as we see him weeping alone in his hotel room with prominent postcards near-by. He does Tai Chi in his spare time, perhaps pointing towards an attempt to calm himself from his inner struggles. Sophia references her dad being low on funds, which makes you wonder why they are on a vacation or why he purchases a fancy Turkish rug. Wells' film doesn't even make it immediately clear that “Aftersun” is told in flashback, the scenes of an adult Sophia with her own family only appearing about halfway through, amid more dream-like scenes of a shadowy dance party.

Since “Aftersun” is so vague, it begs the question of what exactly it's suppose to mean. The film, to my eyes, seems to be about the ambiguities inherent in the child/parent relationship. Calum is doing the best he can. He teaches his daughter how to defend herself from handsy boys, something that proves useful later. He discourages her from smoking, which he sneaks off in the middle of the night to do himself. Yet he also wants her to have a fun time on this trip. Sophia's awareness of whatever struggles her father is going through seems to vary from moment to moment. When she sings karaoke on stage, he refuses to join her, much to her frustration. Both father and daughter are desperate to get to know each other, to reach and support one another. Yet there are these boundaries between them, which can never quite be pierced. Both are unwilling to say everything, forcing them to always be a little bit apart, no matter how much of a connection they try to forge. Calum wants to give Sophia the space she needs to be a budding young girl, to have flirtatious romances and little adventures, while she is reluctant to get into her dad's concerns.

“Aftersun” is clearly a movie awash in nostalgia. While the exact date of the setting is never revealed, it feels like the early 2000s to me. There's a lot of focus on Sophia recording with her small camera. At one point, we see the recording on the TV while she watches her dad, who begs her to turn the camera off. This sets up the presence of the camera, clearly presenting the idea of Sophia looking back on these recordings. When combined with the dream-like image of meeting her father once again at a strobing dance, “Aftersun” furthers the idea of a child reflecting on a pivotal time with her parent, trying to determine what exactly happened and what it all meant. That's where the ambiguity comes from. The movie doesn't know exactly how and why things have worked out because the characters don't know.

I heard a lot of critical praise for “Aftersun” before seeing it. Especially for Paul Mescal's performance as Calum, which I suppose is affable. He seems to be a good guy who is trying his best to be a good father. Yet I'll admit this one left me a bit cold. I found myself frustrated with its unwillingess to reveal more. I get that's the point. This seems to be a highly personal project for its director. Perhaps being a bit more forthcoming would have given me a little bit more of an emotional entrance into a story that frustratingly keeps a lot of details close to its chest. Ultimately, “Aftersun” strikes me as just a snapshot of a larger story, deeply personal for those involved while leaving the rest of us only to wonder what exactly it all means. [6/10]