Aftersun Movie Review

A Memory’s Echo: Aftersun

Some films sweep you into grand narratives, and some gently whisper their stories into your soul. Aftersun, Charlotte Wells’ profoundly tender debut, is firmly in the latter category. This isn’t just a movie; it’s an invitation to remember, feel, and reflect on the fleeting nature of time and connection.

Set against a modest Turkish holiday resort, Aftersun follows young Sophie (Frankie Corio) and her father Calum (Paul Mescal) as they navigate the delicate dance of a father-daughter bond. What seems like a simple vacation unfolds as an evocative exploration of memory, the unspoken, and the ache of growing up and growing apart.

The Power of Perspective

What makes Aftersun exceptional is how Wells crafts her story through the lens of memory. Much of the film feels like a fragmented home video—fleeting moments of joy, tension, and introspection, captured as though replayed in Sophie’s mind years later. This stylistic choice mirrors how we remember our own pasts: not as linear narratives but as a patchwork of images and feelings.

The Craft of Memory: Cinematography

Wells’ approach to cinematography is a revelation in visual storytelling. Cinematographer Gregory Oke captures the film with a softness that mimics the hazy warmth of nostalgia. The sunlit beaches and fluorescent-lit hotel halls are imbued with a dreamlike quality, as if filtered through Sophie’s recollection of the past.

Home video footage, used sparingly but powerfully, adds a layer of authenticity. These fragmented, grainy clips mirror how memories surface—blurred and incomplete, yet deeply affecting. The camera often lingers, inviting us to soak in the quiet moments: a child diving into the pool, a father gazing at his daughter, or the fleeting connection between strangers at a karaoke night. It’s a visual language that doesn’t just show; it feels.

Subtle Brilliance: Acting

Paul Mescal’s portrayal of Calum is nothing short of transformative. With every understated gesture and fleeting smile, he conveys the weight of a man who is quietly unraveling. His struggle with his demons is palpable, yet never overtly stated. Mescal’s performance is a masterclass in restraint, allowing the viewer to piece together Calum’s inner world from the cracks he tries so hard to hide.

Frankie Corio, in her debut role, is a revelation. She embodies Sophie with an effortless authenticity that captures the innocence and curiosity of childhood. Corio’s chemistry with Mescal is electric, grounding the film’s emotional core. Their interactions feel so natural that it’s easy to forget you’re watching a performance. In one particularly touching scene, Sophie and Calum share a silly dance in their hotel room—a moment so pure it feels like a memory pulled from your own life.

Direction That Listens

Charlotte Wells’ direction is marked by its quiet confidence. As a debut, Aftersun is an astonishing feat, with Wells demonstrating a maturity and patience rarely seen in first-time filmmakers. Her choice to tell the story through the lens of memory—fragmented, nonlinear, and often ambiguous—is daring but deeply effective.

Wells trusts her audience, never overexplaining or leaning on exposition. Instead, she allows the silences and subtle interactions to do the heavy lifting. The film’s emotional weight sneaks up on you, building in the quiet moments until it crescendos in a devastating, cathartic release.

A Lasting Impression

At its core, Aftersun isn’t just about a father and daughter; it’s about the spaces between them. It’s about the silences that speak louder than words and the weight of what we don’t know about the people we love. Wells captures these truths with a grace and sensitivity that makes the film feel profoundly personal yet universally resonant.

In the film’s unforgettable climax, set to the pulsing rhythm of “Under Pressure,” Wells weaves memory, emotion, and visual metaphor into a single sequence that will leave you breathless. It’s a moment that crystallizes the film’s themes of connection and loss, leaving an indelible mark on the viewer.

Aftersun is not a film that demands your attention; it earns it. It’s the kind of cinematic experience that feels like a gentle whisper, resonating long after the final frame fades to black. With its masterful cinematography, deeply human performances, and assured direction, Aftersun is an extraordinary debut and a haunting exploration of the fragile beauty of memory.