Aftersun Will Make You Call Your Dad Just to Say ‘I Love You’

Aftersun, directed by Charlotte Wells, is a film about the changing bond between a 30 year old father and his tween daughter. The pair are taking an end of summer vacation to Turkey. While the two seem close, it is apparent that they do not see each other very often. Callum (Paul Mescal) has attempted to put together a perfect luxury trip for his daughter. In reality, though, they sneak into the nicer hotel for food and drinks, leave meals before paying, and are constantly making note of how much things cost. It is clear that Sophie (Frankie Corio) knows her father’s financial state but doesn’t want him to feel bad about their vacation not being perfect. She is often reassuring her father just as he is promising that “next time” their vacation will be better. Sophie seems to be taking care of Callum as much as Callum takes care of Sophie. She is extremely mature despite her young age and wants her father to treat her as such. The two want what is best for the other, but their relationship is not the same as it once was. This movie will pull at your heartstrings and make you nostalgic for an early 2000’s childhood.

Father and daughter relationships can be difficult; especially when the daughter is crossing into their teenage years. Sophie has a clear interest in hanging out with older kids and being grown up while her father struggles to keep up with these changes in her personality. He tries to connect to her by teaching her self- defense and saying that she can always talk to him about anything, yet the gap in their relationship continues to grow. It is apparent that there is still an indescribable love between the two. The two share a tender scene where Sophie is wiping off Callum’s face after a long day and in return Callum wipes off Sophie's face. It’s a ritual that people do every day– cleaning their face after each day– but when I was eleven, I would never have let my dad be that close to me. Anyone who has ever been a young, teenage daughter with a father knows exactly what is happening in these moments. Sophie is incredibly young, but the ages 11, 12, and 13 are such a strange and intense time in a girl's life. You feel so old and you want to be a “big kid,” but watching this movie as an adult, you can see that 11 year olds are just babies. There is a sense of fear for Sophie anytime she is hanging out with the older kids around the hotel because she is in such a vulnerable spot. Like her father is learning, she doesn’t want to hang out with little kids, and just hanging out with her dad isn’t going to cut it anymore. She is growing up and picking up on things she wouldn’t have before. And maybe she is learning that her father is not invincible and never scared. Throughout the movie Callum turns to alcohol when he doesn’t know exactly what to do with his daughter or feels he is letting her down. We see him have a breakdown towards the end of the movie where he violently sobs. He’s not perfect, he never was, but to Sophie, he had it all figured out. This is a new dynamic that has to be accepted by both Sophie and Callum to allow their relationship to grow and not break. The audience certainly picks up on this discomfort from both of the characters and is aching for them to let the other back in.

For most of the film, I felt confused. I knew what was happening on the surface, but I was failing to connect it all and find the greater theme. It is not until the last twenty minutes that the viewer really grasps the emotional depths this film reaches. Without spoiling too much, we, the audience, are taken out of the trip to Turkey to a modern apartment where a 30 year old Sophie is watching the camcorder footage from her trip with her father. She is now the age her father was when they went on their trip to Turkey. Charlotte Wells made it clear when scenes were being filmed on the camcorder and when they were not. And suddenly, I realized the footage outside of the camcorder– the standardly shot scenes – are memories that are being expanded from viewing this home video. It clicked that this film is not linear because memories are not linear. Seemingly random cuts and flashbacks to earlier scenes now made sense. Certain memories can trigger new memories, or one day, you look at a photo and suddenly remember a moment you didn’t know existed.

This is a film that begs to be seen again. My first watch was over a week ago, and I’ve yet to stop thinking about it. The last fifteen minutes of the film were some of the most memorable and poignant minutes of a film I’ve seen in a long while. I was suddenly overcome with emotions of longing for my dad. Even though I talk to my dad often and had seen him recently, I longed for the relationship we once had. One that was forced to change in my teenage years — it just does. I miss him playing with me and my brothers in the pool, throwing us higher than we thought possible. I miss taking trips to New York City, full of wonder and jitters at the city I knew I would one day call home. I miss the times of thinking that my parents were invincible and bad things couldn’t happen. But now, I would say my parents and I are closer than we ever have been. They can be friends and confidants now that I am an adult and there is less “parenting” to be done. I talk to my mom almost daily, and my father almost as much. Our relationship looks different than it did when I was a child, but just like Sophie and Callum learn in Aftersun, change is inevitable– and good– in parental/child relationships.