The setup and plot are a simple as simple can be: a father and a daughter are on vacation (or, because they’re Scottish, “holiday”) together at a beach resort. We follow them on that holiday. On the surface, that’s what we see. But, thanks to brilliant direction from first-time director Charlotte Wells and amazing performances by Oscar nominee Paul Mescal and young Frankie Corio, Aftersun is about so much more than that. In Corio’s Sophie, we see a young girl on the edge of leaving her childhood behind, but still finding needed comfort in it. In Mescal’s Calum, we see a man fighting to hold onto his daughter and her image of her father against the doubts that his life have pounded him with.

As we experience this vacation with these two very authentic characters, we understand that we are not just seeing a story, but a memory. At several points in Aftersun, the movie shows us digital video footage that Calum and Sophie shot on this vacation. When that footage plays at the beginning, we see the hint of a reflection on the screen that a woman–Sophie as an adult–is watching the footage years later. At other times, even though we’re not watching that footage, the screen displays some digital debris as if it was also filtered through that camera. Thus, we come to see that the story is filtered through Sophie’s memory of that vacation. We get to see 11-year-old Sophie, for the most part, just being a kid–horsing around at the pool, playing video games at an arcade. But we also see her reaching for adolescence: spending some time hanging out with much older teens, having her first kiss, and even resisting her father’s attempt to put sunblock on her. The movie communicates that this is a pivotal time in Sophie’s life which will color so much of her future.

Because Sophie is the filter through whom the story is told, we get even less direct insight into Calum’s state of mind. But what we see tells us it’s not good. We know that he is not married to Sophie’s mother (my guess is that he never was) and that he has struggled with relationships throughout life. He’s practicing tai chi and reading about meditation, suggesting a search for inner peace. He wears an unexplained cast on his arm for the first part of the movie, providing a hint that his anger may have gotten the best of him at some point (thus, the search for peace). A story from his childhood supports an inference that he was abused and neglected. We get looks and body language which show us that he is fighting depression and anxiety. Yet he tries to carry on as best he can to show his daughter and prove to himself that he’s still a good dad. That doesn’t always work; a critical part of the third act show the two fight briefly and then separate for the evening, and Calum’s turmoil that night is apparent–he lost the battle with the demons that day. Yet, he picks himself back up the next day and tries again.

Throughout Aftersun, we get brief glimpses of a strobe-lit dance floor. Adult Sophie watches from a distance as Calum dances, normally at first but manically later. He wears the shirt that we’ll see him wear on the last day of the holiday, and we get the sense that this vacation may have been the last time the two saw each other, or at least the last good time they had together. The film is never explicit as to whether that’s true or how that happened (there are hints). But, however it happened, we know that it deeply affected Sophie throughout her life. And, at least for this girl dad, as we get to the closest thing we can to a resolution of their story, I was absolutely gutted by the interwoven joy of pure familial love and pain of heartbreaking loss that Wells manages to achieve.

Aftersun is a movie focused on catching a moment and a mood and holding onto it. We, like Sophie, examine the moments we get to see and have to draw our own conclusions about what has happened to bring Calum to this time. But we don’t have to guess at the emotion that he is experiencing thanks to Mescal’s mesmerizing performance. There is no “Oscar scene” where he gets to let loose and blurt out all the problems that have brought him to this point. Mescal wisely plays everything internally, as a father who is trying to love his daughter well will do. And the movie is so much better for that restraint. Corio is radiant, yet perfectly natural, as young Sophie. There isn’t a false “actorly” note in her performance. Aftersun is a film that asks so much from its actors because it’s in their being more than their actions and words that they tell the real story. And they do that so, so well.

There were lots of bigger movies in 2022. With as small and quiet as Aftersun is, it would be difficult to not make a bigger movie. But there wasn’t one that was better. The most emotionally complex, emotionally tender, and, ultimately, most emotionally fulfilling film of the year, Aftersun was also 2022’s best.

Aftersun is available to buy or rent on video on demand.

(Photo credit: A24 Press)