Aftersun: Review

Charlotte Wells' debut recalls a moment in time that haunts forever

A memory lost in time, Aftersun evokes the sun-kissed nostalgia of pre-noughties, British resort holidays, as a deep visceral memory. a sensation that’s probably been lost in time (certainly in my mind) but aftersun somehow finds a way to unlock it and force you to relive it. It finds a kind of innocence and serenity within the quaint holiday setting, a time that for many of us share our fondest and most formative memories. Yet, Charlotte Wells does something with this blissfully benign setting and takes you to a place I really hadn’t anticipated nor wished to revisit. It deconstructs these memories with devastating cam corder footage and looks it as a period of significant transition, the devastating realisation that our parents are only human. it perhaps reinforced some truths that i really wished to neglect.

The sudden breakneck turn in the narrative begged to ruin the whole film for me, but it fits together in all the right ways, even if the result makes me sick to my stomach and is hard for me to even think about now. 

Wells' direction is so effortlessly understated, each shot bleeds into the next and stays its welcome for as long as it god damn pleases. it finds so much power in allowing the quieter moments room to breathe and in turn they become the most devastating. It’s a powerhouse of a directorial debut, so sensitively judged yet honestly provocative.