Aftersun

"This is our last dance" What happens after dying? I do not believe in an afterlife per se, but what if I am still under the same sun? What if I am still found in the mesmerizing patterns of a Persian rug? How alive is the picture of me captured on film, and how alive is the picture of me captured within your mind? It took me an astonishingly long time to grasp the direction of this film. While anticipating an intense wave of dread to crash down, I realized too late that it had been a subtle rave unfolding before my eyes from the very beginning. The final five minutes offer glimpses of an event – the rave in question. A dance’s choreography barely discernible at times resembles a physical altercation and at others, a series of movements paced to a pulsating techno beat – the only recognizable pattern of movement being the separation of a daughter and her father Paul Mescal's character orchestrates the separation delivered with as much joy as possible. He is consumed with concern over how his daughter perceives him, struggling internally to appear perfect while grappling with his own self-disgust. Mescal’s portrayal of a covert end-of-life care project is adorned with a slipping mask, never fully revealing the scars of his true self, leaving it all up to the viewer to psychoanalyse The film's visuals paint a hauntingly beautiful picture, rich with nostalgia. Each frame feels meticulously crafted, evoking a sense of longing and bittersweet memories. The use of light and color crafted a dreamlike quality that immersed me into a world that felt both real and ethereal Aftersun is grief captured with a desire to be processed occasionally over different chapters of life. Whilst 31-year-old Sophie is seen still a victim of everlasting dagger of sorrow, a path of acceptance is offered with solace and a child of her own. Located within the cozy confides of an industrial New York apartment and a love of her own Correspondingly, in my promised days of despair in whatever situation life has offered for me. With whoever I am or am not with. In whatever kind of an apartment I live or don't in. With whatever I have and what I don't have. Only then can I return to scratch an old wound, and only then will I realize the deepest depths this movie truly offers