‘Aftersun’ Review: Charlotte Wells provides memory, nostalgia and obsolete technology
Charlotte Wells’ extraordinary debut film, Aftersun, is a reflective piece of cinematic beauty so timely that we’re yet to appreciate its pertinence. Making us nostalgic for lives we’ve never lived, her story traces an ephemeral summer holiday between a young father and his daughter, lovingly captured on an old MiniDV camera, where the man struggles to identify himself as a parent, and the girl is too young to comprehend the pain behind his eyes.
Though, Aftersun is not so simple, with the footage of the holiday itself being viewed by an adult version of the young girl, Sophie (Frankie Corio), who reflects on her memories to dissect her father, Calum (Paul Mescal) and try to understand the man behind the parent. Providing the space and time for the characters to thrive, Wells frames the whole story as if it were stuck within the remits of a decaying photo album, where Sophie tries to fill in the gaps between her memories and the captured images.
For those who are familiar with Wells’ previous works, especially her first short film – Tuesday, Aftersun will feel like an extension of the talented director’s obsession with a specific kind of cinematic realism. Despite the fact that modern audiences have been overrun by images everywhere, Gregory Oke’s cinematography feels vibrant and fresh. That’s because the images in Aftersun aren’t superficial; they are grounded by layers of loss and grief.
However, Aftersun’s greatest achievement is its innovative narrative structure which actually reflects the complex machinations of human memory. While many filmmakers have used the cinematic medium to conduct memorable investigations of memory, Aftersun is actually a commentary on the technological evolution of memory and its impact on our collective cultural consciousness. Wells effortlessly connects the personal to the universal, inviting the audience to explore a liminal space.
In a contemporary era where nostalgia has been commercialised, the director has managed to bottle the sentiment and make something quite beautiful from its ethereal fragrance, capturing a profound feeling of melancholy from a film that features very few ‘sad’ moments. Much like the unplaceable “funny feeling” that Bo Burnham cites in his opportune Netflix special Inside, Wells seizes something very similar that speaks to a contemporary yearning for the bliss of the past.
Primarily, this ‘feeling’ comes as a result of the contentious fragility of the modern world, where the culture wars have divided generations, climate change has provided existential fear, and the concept of ‘fake news’ seemingly makes fact and fiction inextricable. Social media, too, gives a running commentary on these modern anxieties, making sure you stay fearful of each topic and tap into its progress on a regular basis.
Based in the early 2000s, Wells’ simple father-and-daughter tale acts in direct contrast to this contemporary reality, presenting a world that is far quieter in comparison, recorded and captured using obsolete technology that preserves memory for the future rather than being immediately snatched for social media. This desire for authentic technology not attached to the overbearing weight of the internet is likely what’s encouraged the demand for vinyl records, film cameras and VHS players, with such technology providing something far more personal and authentic than the uniform products of modern capitalism.
Such is illustrated in one memorable moment when Sophie takes a Polaroid photo of Calum during dinner, with Wells choosing to focus on the images gradually fading into existence rather than the continuing conversation. Capturing much of Aftersun’s ephemeral beauty, the shot taps into how Sophie interprets her own home movies as a constructed reflection of the past, showing her what she remembers and what she does not, unable to snatch focus on her own memories.
“One of the things I was looking to explore with memory was how filmmakers portray memory and how they allow audiences in,” Wells told MUBI, with this quote relating to her own Oscar-nominated movie, as well as Sophie’s home movie, which desperately preserved her own memories for future analysis.
Indeed, just like the fragile complexity of the human mind, technology is unreliable and prone to human bias as well as glitches and scratches. Remembering only certain phases and moments, capturing the good times and the seemingly irrelevant moments, our memories are no different from the digital history we create for ourselves to bask in and reflect on. This is the nuanced feeling that Wells grasps so well, creating a film that playfully toys with memory, nostalgia and the ethereal grace of ‘obsolete’ technology.
