Aftersun | Heartbreaking Findings upon Revisiting

“I'm not simply appreciating the film itself, but also the directing talent.” a fan of Aftersun spoke quite highly of the film directed by Charlotte Wells, which won widespread praise from fans at last year's Cannes Film Festival.

Following the director's advice, I didn't spend time learning about the story or seeing the trailer before watching Aftersun to ensure the best viewing experience without any advance knowledge or preparation. It proved a good suggestion as I was quickly immersed in the cozy, summery atmosphere of the film, following 11-year-old Sophie(Frankie Corio) and her father Calum(Paul Mescal) on a bus trip to Torremolinos, Turkey. It feels like I had joined the girl in swimming, diving, playing billiards, applying Ice cream-like sunscreen, bathing in the sun while watching the sky para-glider like wandering birds and experiencing the stirrings of adolescence in the absence of her father.

Although the DV footage at the beginning of the film is followed by a shot with strobe lightning, an inexpressible feeling, intertwined with curiosity, stirred in me, only to be suppressed and left behind. However, at a later point, possibly due to new scenes of flashes, that feeling sneaked back. This time, I knew I could not ignore it, as tears welled up involuntarily. The summer trip, the happiest time for Sophie, turns out to be the most painful for her father. The same time and space evokes contrasting emotions and memories, with Sophie completely unaware of what her father was going through until years later when she as an adult watches the DV video filmed at that time.

I decided to watch it a second time, trying to uncover the subtle hints of the father's pain I had missed on the first. This time, I was not in that little girl's viewpoint who, though smart and sensitive, was too young to understand what an adult had not articulated. Instead, I stood in adult Sophie's shoes, trying to reestablish a connection with the melancholic father and find the hidden sadness and pain beneath his forced smile through those blurred memories.

And not surprisingly, I cried even louder upon noticing the details.

01

In this scene, Sophie is talking about her happy moments in the past while Calum is in the bathroom removing his cast and bandages, and accidentally stabbed himself in the arm with scissors.

A wall separates the father and daughter into two worlds, the left roomy in warm yellow and the right cramped, narrow and stifling in cool blue. The contrast in color as well as the space division both indicate the differing states of mind of Sophie and Calum.

02

After a dive, Calum runs into a scuba instructor. Learning about the instructor's rich life story, he subconsciously responds: "I can't see myself at 40, to be honest. Surprised I made it to 30." At his words, he raises his head, his eyes focused after a glance at something not far away, and a sense of wonder surfaces on his face.

The following scene doesn't tell us what Calum saw, but it's probably his daughter coming back from getting the camera.

03

Calum crosses the road as if there's no one else, paying no attention to the traffic, even though a bus almost hits him before the driver brakes and honks. Calum simply remains indifferent to everything around him. Perhaps he wants to die? Or maybe he's trapped in his own sentimental world, exhausted and unable to respond to the outside world.

04

"Don't you ever feel like you've just done a whole amazing day, and then you come home and feel tired and down, and feels like your bones don't work. They're just tired and everything is tired." Sophie freely expresses her feelings to her father. It's quite normal and natural to feel tired after hanging out, whether you're a child or an adult, but Calum doesn't seem to feel the same way. He keeps lowering his head, spits the toothpaste foam vigorously to the mirror and gives a seemingly agreed response: "We are here to have a good time."

As the two leave the screen, the camera does not follow but wanders in the darkness like a ghost, until the scene gradually lights up again and the toothpaste foam jumps in our eyes. It has already dried up, hanging on the mirror like something of incarnation of great sadness. Perhaps for Calum, fatigue is not a product of travel, but an overwhelming force that exists all the time.

05

The sequences hint at the ever-present tension of the holiday. Having a hard time containing his suicide attempts, the father can't help but imagine himself falling like a paraglider. While Sophie enjoys herself during this vacation, she acutely smells some unease in the air. There is a sense of fragile balance throughout the scene.

06

This is one of the most excruciating moments. Sophie invites Calum to sing with her on stage but is rejected. The two minutes feel so long as the mood of both of them gradually falls to the bottom. Calum folds his chest with one hand and rests his chin on the other, which is a slightly defensive posture to show his rejection. However, his eyes betray him with guilt towards his daughter.

Sophie is almost in the same position as Calum, her expression visibly changing from anticipation to embarrassment and disappointment. A moment when the father and the daughter are in front of each other but feel like at distance.

07

After the two awkward minutes, a quarrel breaks out. Calum walks into the vast deep sea alone. Everything was silent, except for the deafening tide hitting the beach, as if it is summoning the Death. According to one interpretation, Calum never comes back from the sea, and that everything that happens afterwards is Sophie's fantasy.

I was greeted by an inexplicable melancholy the first time I watch Aftersun. It was only upon revisiting it that I identified the unspoken pain and came to realize what the director hope to tell - it seems we never truly understand our dads and mums or elder people we love. The more we grow up, the deeper they become entangled in the inexcapable torrent of life, which we won't grasp this until one day in the future, when it all clicks.

LC@J Rating:⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐