Aftersun

Aftersun slipped quietly under my skin, but nothing has moved me as much in the last time. Nothing loud or obvious, just this soft ache that’s hard to put into words. And literally no movie moved me as much as this in the last time. When Sophie says, “I just feel a bit down or something,” it sounds casual, but you can feel the weight behind it, the tension hanging in the air, unspoken and heavy. The performances bring every fragile moment to life: Paul Mescal’s subtle, aching portrayal of Calum is heartbreakingly real, and Frankie Corio as young Sophie shines with such natural innocence and depth that it makes the quiet moments even more powerful. Calum holds so much inside, trying to be present, trying to be okay, but slowly drifting away. His fear - that something’s wrong with him and that she might notice, or worse, carry it too. fills every quiet moment with charged stillness. The film feels like a quiet looking back; not to find answers, but to feel what was always there beneath the surface. It’s impressive how cleverly they brought this to life by weaving between young and adult Sophie. Fragments of a past that only come into focus with time, and maybe only when it’s too late. PS: I don’t love how often Aftersun gets boiled down to that one moment with Under Pressure. There’s so much more in the film — in Calum’s quiet self-destruction, in the way pain and love coexist, in the pieces that slowly fall apart inside both of them. But still, when that song plays, it carries everything the film leaves unspoken — in the music, in the silence, in that final, heartbreaking dance. — It’s probably one of the very few perfect movies 🤍