The glow of the sun is a blessing, though in time it dehydrates, burns and exhaust. Such is the relationship of young father, Calum (normal person Paul Mescal), and his teenage daughter Sophie (newcomer Frankie Corio), traversing a foreign land and their relationship in the cruel summer flick, Aftersun.

Short, but certainly not sweet, Aftersun follows prodigal daughter, Sophie, as she reflects on her final holiday with her troubled father, Calum. Through the gift of hindsight and a hand-held camcorder, she rifes through beautiful and painful memories with a clearer perspective.

Like a sunset sinking below the horizon, Aftersun grows steadily glum. Darker shades sneak into the folds of our characters frowns, and as mole hills turn to mountains, the distance between them grows farther.
Aftersun is heartbreaking, not in an overtly tragic way. There is no Romeo and Juliette duel sacrifice, nor a Titanic overture. Instead, it is the deafening silences, the wants and regrets, the missed opportunities, and the pain of witnessing the love our characters hold for one and other flaking apart that truly tear the heart from your chest. There’s a tangible sense of doom in the clear air.

With a heavy heart noted mainly through sighs and stares, Mescals nuanced portrait of despair has garnered him a well-earned Oscar Nomination. Frankie Coro is likewise terrific as she traverses the abject clarifications of her fathers’ glassy eyes.
Writer/director Charlotte Wells has created a homely and achingly well told story that feels torn from the pages of so many broken families. Weaving subtle storytelling and minimal dialogue in favour of regular feel-bad tropes.

A fantastic soundtrack, wonderful cinematography, brilliant performances and a heartbreaking story Aftersun is a tour-de-force of hurt feelings. Leading the audience down a road less travelled, and a vacation you might want to stay home from, and one you’ll never forget.

4.5 / 5