Normal People's Paul Mescal is an Oscars contender for his performance in Aftersun, a strikingly perceptive coming-of-age drama partly inspired by the ...
The two periods of Sophie's life melt into each other, combining the themes of memory, identity and grief in a heart-rending finale. But in one scene, we realise this is no longer a memory, but a re-imagining: As Sophie sleeps in bed, the camera pans to her father on a balcony alone. Wells's father died when she was 16, and she has said that while her film is not based on him, he was a source of inspiration. More than once in the film we see Calum alone like this, as if adult Sophie is trying to fill in the gaps of what she knows about her father. Aftersun is a film about such a realisation, framed as a kind of extended flashback. The video footage as framing device infers that, many years after the events, the adult Sophie is watching.
Aftersun is the much-lauded debut feature of Scottish writer-director Charlotte Wells, who lives in New York, where she studied film at NYU. She does what an ...
The last moments offer a dam burst of mysterious emotion powerful enough to sweep away the earlier doubts. The accumulation of small details builds a strong sense of who these characters are. And if you are prepared to risk everything on your first feature, you are honouring the gods of film. The story is autobiographical, although story seems a strong word – this is more like a fragment from childhood, an attempt to reconcile memory with a sense of loss. If we don’t have room for risk-takers, for the films that challenge and perplex us, then we lose the place of invention, the space for something new. Odd then that the film leaves you with a sense of loss and pain that’s quite profound.
It's how writer/director Charlotte Wells chooses to frame such a story though – almost like a faded memory – that transforms proceedings into something that ...
We’re always predicting the worst for both characters – Sophie walking off on her own after they spat over Calum refusing to partake in the resort’s karaoke night is another uncomfortable moment – and the more the film embraces their push-pull dynamic, the more we understand the glimpses of present-day Sophie, dancing in a strobe-lit rave hall, letting her father go in a burst of imagery that has both literal and metaphorical connotations that will long be debated after the credits roll; the audience I saw this with sat in absolute silence and stillness. There’s always a sense of dread lingering, and Wells ultimately alluding to Calum’s early death doesn’t help that unease either; a scene where Sophie is sleeping in the foreground whilst Calum occupies himself on the hotel balcony just out of focus seems purposefully structured for the audience to constantly worry whilst watching. It’s how writer/director Charlotte Wells chooses to frame such a story though – almost like a faded memory – that transforms proceedings into something that imbeds itself in our psyche, refusing to let go for long after this deceptively haunting film has closed.
'Wells didn't wow film juries with her showy filmmaking, instead giving us a slow-burn masterclass in restraint that far more experienced directors could ...
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It is the 90s and the film follows their holiday as Sophie captures the moments through a camcorder, as well as explores her newfound independence. nigerian ...
The film culminates in a single long shot of an exquisite reunion between the adult Sophie and her memory of her 11-year-old self. It is the vignettes of Sophie bonding with her father and the glimpses of Calum’s solitude that truly tug at the heartstrings. It is the 90s and the film follows their holiday as Sophie captures the moments through a camcorder, as well as explores her newfound independence.
Lula Izzard, Ilina Jha, Jess Parker, Louis Wright, James Evenden, aliceweltermann, Sammy Andrews, Emily Wallace, Benjamin Oakden and Isobel Radakovic.
The film is riddled with enticing, interconnected conflict between the characters, from the challenges of Front of House manager Beth’s (Alice Feetham) excessive pandering and micromanagement to the abusive and unsympathetic guests to the challenges of Jones’ personal life. Boiling Point is a tension-ridden drama that is one of the best British films I have watched in recent years. The film has a strong and well told message on the importance of having real people in your life to connect to rather than just those online. Moreover, with the fantastic incorporation of stop-motion animation, it is easy to forget that Marcel is not a real actor. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On (2021) is easily one of the best films of this decade. Colm and Pádraic, from feelings of frustration, disrupt the claustrophobia of the town, with Colm eager to do something. The satirisation of Gen Z, social media and political commentary felt accurate without coming across as overly condescending to this generation, and offered a criticism of wealth and privilege which is relevant to people across all generations. Martin McDonagh’s The Banshees of Inisherin begins with a quiet, strolling reflection, taking time to dwell on the idyllic Irish countryside and seafront. The film is filled with hyperbolic references to social media trends, internet jokes and pop-psychology phrases such as ‘toxic’ and ‘gaslighting’, and it explores and critiques the often shallowness of political commentary on social media, with a cynical outlook of how Gen Z engages with politics. But what one remembers this film for is the everyday life of Buddy and his family, which is (a lot of the time) very, very funny. The film is a flashback to a holiday between Calum (Paul Mescal) and his daughter Sophie (Frankie Corio). The characters in the film are shown to be progressive in some aspects, while simultaneously, the group is pervaded by prejudices particularly relating to social class and status, and display a superficial sense of care regarding mental illness, with characters dismissing each other’s struggles with mental health or reacting to others’ disclosures about mental health problems by centering the conversations around themselves.
With her debut role in the critically acclaimed film 'Aftersun', 12-year-old Frankie Corio has proven her capabilites as an actor, even to herself.
It’s the perfect reminder, as the call draws to a close, about the person (and age) she is: a lover of US teen pop and horror films (the ones she’s allowed to watch, of course), with dreams of one day being in Stranger Things or Heartstopper. “I’m a primary school teacher, so I saw it on a page that was put out looking for kids between the ages of 10 and 12.” And so began the long process of auditioning and waiting, all while navigating the changing rules of the pandemic. And it was because of that innocence that Charlotte and Paul kept parts of his character hidden away from Frankie for a time – the nuances of his life and mental state, the parts that a father in the real world may want to hide from his own children, especially on holiday, something that one day they come to realise on their own terms. After all, she landed the role because her mother saw an advert for the film on Facebook and she decided that Frankie was the perfect fit. In many ways it seems what Charlotte wanted from the role of Sophie was exactly someone like Frankie – a young girl full of life and excitement, as well as innocence and a growing curiosity for the world. Unknowingly, it could be how Frankie brought her contemporary and real-time personality to the role that also brought the profound element of timelessness within Aftersun. After the day was done, Paul would stay there to do a scene and I wasn’t allowed to be there. She has a grin that reaches from one side of her face to the other and a knack for making both me and her mother laugh. In the video Paul laughs and puts his arm around Frankie, a nod to their bond, one that stretches much further than their on-screen relationship. “Nobody has come up to you yet outside an event or anything,” her mother says, after I ask about praise from strangers for the 12-year-old’s debut role in the 2022 film Aftersun. When we speak, Frankie is still on Christmas break from school, as are her siblings, who have been turfed out of the living room for the duration of the call. With her debut role in the critically acclaimed film 'Aftersun', 12-year-old Frankie Corio has proven her capabilites as an actor, even to herself.
Paul Mescal thoroughly deserves his Oscar nomination for this heartwrenching father-daughter tale from first-time feature filmmaker Charlotte Wells.
Her way with all the details revealed in all those small things, and with music drops that say everything (the use of David Bowie and Queen's 'Under Pressure' is majestic and dazzling) is as well. She also wants viewers sharing the train of thought with him, in a movie that doesn't just feel personal in every second — the filmmaker has called it "emotionally autobiographical" — but gets its audience feeling that it is personal to them. Everything about the picture ripples with a lived-in air: Mescal and Corio alone and combined alike, the emotions so tremendously conveyed in their portrayals, the genuine rather than fetishised 90s minutiae, Catatonia's 'Road Rage' and All Saints' 'Never Ever' echoing among the pitch-perfect music choices, and those flashes of hazy lose-yourself-to-dance reverie that include the grownup Sophie as well as her vision of Calum. Wells has crafted a chronicle of interrogating, contextualising, reframing and dwelling in memories; an examination of leaving and belonging; and an unpacking of the complicated truths that a kid can't see about a parent until they're old enough to be that parent. It tracks, then, that this coming-of-age story on three levels — of an 11-year-old flirting with adolescence, a dad struggling with his place in the world, and an adult woman with her own wife and family grappling with a life-changing experience from her childhood — is always a movie of deep, devastating and revealing complexity. It's a quest to find meaning in sorrow and pain, too, and in processing the past.
This memory reel of a father and daughter having fun on holiday in Turkey has won BAFTA awards and an Oscar nomination – and it delivers a powerful ...
Sophie’s coming-of-age story with the father she barely knew ends 20 years later, as quietly and ordinarily as it began. Sophie is perfectly poised at that moment of blossoming awareness just before adolescence, and Corio’s performance is remarkable. But at some point, a sneaky sense of dread builds, the awful feeling that Calum is going to lose control and something bad will happen. As a side event, a karaoke sequence revealing Calum’s crippling lack of confidence feels desperately sad as he stays in his seat, leaving Sophie stranded behind the mic. Yet it takes a while to be seduced because on the surface everything seems so normal and nice. Sophie is up for it but she is watchful as Calum, gentle and withdrawn, does his tai chi practice – his ninja poses, she calls them.
The film Aftersun (2022), directed by Charlotte Wells, follows the story of Sophie (Frankie Corio) and Calum (Paul Mescal). The film synopsis reads: “Sophie ...
It’s isolating to know that there are people that you love and who love you, yet you have this aching weight of sadness that will not let go of you. Sophie’s reflection on that summer vacation with her father seems to be a potent memory, and when she rewatches the videos, she’s trying to capture a small hole in her memories. The film, I feel, does a beautiful job of capturing a sense of sadness and nostalgia. The golden hues of a sunny vacation with Sophie and Calum contrasted with the cooler tones of the isolated scenes of Calum. It feels as though it exposes a sense of sadness we hope that nobody will ever witness with us. “Sophie reflects on the shared joy and private melancholy of a holiday she took with her father twenty years earlier.
Charlotte Wells' indie drama Aftersun and Gina Prince-Bythewood's The Woman King headed the winners at the second Girls On Film awards, from the UK podcast ...
Girls On Film was launched by critic and broadcaster Anna Smith and producer Hedda Archbold, aiming to give a fresh perspective on gender in films. Lead actress Viola Davis also took the Feminist Superhero prize. Aftersun received the best feature film award, four days after it picked up the Bafta for outstanding debut by a British writer, director or producer.
Knowing Aftersun is a semi-autobiographical movie changes everything. Knowing that writer and director Charlotte Wells chose to create art from a moment in her ...
Everything about Aftersun is in what’s not said, merely observed and remembered. Remember that because the beautifully observed and sensuous Aftersun is a slow burn. Calum is a young father, about to turn 31 years old, and he and Sophie’s mother are no longer together. It’s all in the stolen glances, the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it camera pans, or a blurred image barely visible in the corner of the frame. There are storms blowing through but nothing is said, nothing is done, and nothing is obvious. The act of that choice imbues Aftersun with emotional gravity.
Aftersun is a film about a twenty-year-old memory. Calum (Paul Mescal) is the too-young-to-be-responsible father with his 11-year-old daughter Sophie (Frankie ...
The plot is there as a conduit for featuring the bear. Besides the gruesome gore and the “kids happily taking cocaine with no consequences” scene, there’s not a lot more that’s transgressive about Cocaine Bear. But writer Jimmy Warden read this story and thought: what if the bear survived and went on a murdering rampage to pursue even more cocaine? For a moment, the film hints at a clunky subtext about Reagan’s war on drugs. The critter had bumped into a duffel bag of cocaine that was dropped from a smugglers’ plane, eaten some of the contents and then passed away. She will try not to cry in front of her friends when she hears it in a pub, and she will skip the track on the CD unless she’s alone. That film didn’t work beyond winking at the audience as if it were constantly asking “isn’t this idea silly?” But Cocaine Bear plays it all with style and candour; writer and director clearly know that any misstep would ruin the viewing experience. In 1985 a black bear was found dead in a National Park in Georgia, in the US, next to a bag of drugs. In one of the film’s climaxes, Sophie sings alone in karaoke to R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion” and, since her father has refused to sing a duet with her, refuses to return to the hotel with Calum. The scene is terrific, and you can understand why it caught the attention of most film critics, but the one that struck me harder comes earlier in the film. Calum and Sophie spend their days together in the resort, occupied with activities that are not that important. The details are all curated with careful precision by filmmaker Charlotte Wells (this is her feature debut), with the story based, not surprisingly, on her relationship with her father.