Charlotte Wells: the rising star behind bittersweet Aftersun

That seems simple enough. But blending their real-time experiences with Sophie’s video footage, and intercutting that with scenes of an adult Sophie on her birthday in New York as well as with hallucinogenic images of a woman in a strobe-lit space which may be a nightclub, Wells brings a deal more to the table. Memory, mystery, nostalgia tinged with sadness. Why is Sophie remembering the holiday now? What happened after those two weeks in the Turkish sun? What’s eating Calum and why?

“It’s personal to me but it’s not me, I would say,” is how the 35-year-old director (pictured below) deals with the inevitable question: how autobiographical is your film? “My own relationship with my dad is definitely the starting point for the script, but beyond that seed of inspiration it very much begins on film … These characters were separate from the people that inspired them.” But, she adds, “unquestionably flipping through old holiday albums and seeing how young my dad looked at the age I was approaching myself was a genesis of the project.”

As for why the film has touched audiences so deeply and proved such a festival hit – it premiered at Cannes, where it won a Jury Prize, and has also screened at festivals in New York, Adelaide, Melbourne and Toronto – well that’s a question for other people, she thinks.

“All I can say is my experiences with my short films has been that they reached a few people in a meaningful way, and that was always enough for me. The difference with this, and perhaps it’s because I’ve had seven years to craft it, is we seem to have reached more than a few people in a meaningful way. Why is difficult to answer. But I think many of us have a connection to one or two of the characters in the film, and there’s definitely something relatable to a parent and child dynamic. I think the ultimate expression in the film, which is one of love and also of grief, is something that people can connect to.”

Aftersun opens with video footage then cuts to Calum and Sophie arriving at night in a regional Turkish airport. They are bussed to a deserted hotel, through an unfamiliar landscape. Sophie, as she does in several scenes, is wearing a Hearts football top.

Wardrobe decision or something more personal? A bit of both, she says. “My mum’s side of the family are Hibs fans, my dad’s side are Hearts fans. The original intentional had probably been that it was a Hibs shirt, to be honest, but that maroon is a nicer colour and that was the shirt I could get my hands on. A close friend from school’s sister had a drawer filled with old Hearts shirts and her dad posted one to me. It was perfect.”

There is the inevitable mix up with rooms at the hotel when the pair arrive but day finally dawns with the sun blazing from an azure sky – and a hotel full of Brits sunning themselves around a pool. Against this background Calum and Sophie eat, drink, relax, go scuba diving and sight-seeing and, in one pivotal scene, visit a karaoke session. There, to Calum’s embarrassment, Sophie insists on singing REM’s 1991 hit Losing My Religion (Wells is a fan: interviewed in Toronto by cinéaste bible Sight & Sound, she turned up in a band t-shirt).

But there is trouble in paradise. Calum is a loving father, a fun dad to be around, but in private he’s troubled and brooding. He oozes sadness. Sophie senses it, but has only a child’s understanding of such adult complexities – even though that changes a little when she encounters a group of pool-playing English teenagers who take her under their wing. As Sophie and Calum wander the holiday complex, Wells throws in moments of apparent jeopardy and crisis, but always leavened with ambiguity.

It’s a neat balancing act but the Scot has learned by studying the best. Among the filmmakers she cites as an influence is French director Claire Denis, whose films offer a masterclass in elision, understatement and, often, that same sense of ambiguity. In Aftersun what isn’t said or seen is almost as important as what is. “I look to express things in gesture and silence and not necessarily in dialogue,” Wells explains.

Another reason for the film’s power is the charisma of its two leads. Corio (below), who is from Livingston, was found at a casting call in Glasgow in February 2020, just ahead of the first lockdown.

“She embodied this idea of being on the cusp of adolescence but still leaning on the child side of that,” Wells recalls. “She had this ability – unusual in a child, I think – to move between different emotional states without carrying anything over that she didn’t need to. She’s also fun and lovely and was a true joy to have on the set.”

On the face it, casting Irish actor Paul Mescal (above) as Calum was a no-brainer, though Wells says she initially cast “a wide net” and had even considered using a non-actor for the role. But when his name came up in connection with the part she was excited: the BAFTA-winning star of television hit Normal People is one of the most sought-after actors in cinema right now. “He had a lot of empathy for the character, a really thoughtful response to the script,” she says.

Another big name involved in the project is its co-producer: Barry Jenkins, Oscar-winning director of Moonlight. His company Pastel backed Wells after he met her at a film festival.

It helped that she was in the right place. Since 2013 she has been based in New York, having moved there after university in London to do New York University’s MFA/MBA course, a joint qualification blending business with film and television production. Four well-received short films followed her graduation from NYU, each one shot by cinematographer Gregory Oke, a former classmate. Oke also shot Aftersun, helping Wells sculpt the film’s signature visual style.

“Developing the visual look and language of the film was one of the most creatively fulfilling parts of the process, and we put a lot of thought and consideration into how we approached it from camera to movement to colour,” she says. “It was important to us that it feel very vibrant, very present. That was the word we always used.”

But if her route into filmmaking came in New York, her entrée to arthouse cinema occurred a little closer to home, courtesy of the Filmhouse and its influential youth filmmaking organisation, Scottish Kids Are Making Movies. Known as SKAMM, it was founded in 1997 by former Edinburgh International Film Festival (EIFF) director Mark Cousins and Filmhouse education officer, Shiona Wood, and also counts Get Duked! director Ninian Doff among its alumni.

SKAMM is no longer, a blow to grass roots film creation in Scotland. Worse, the Filmhouse and the EIFF are no longer operating either. Unsurprisingly, Wells was shocked by the announcement regarding the closure of the cinema and the attendant demise of her hometown festival.

“The Filmhouse is where I saw my first film,” she says. “That [closure] to me is almost a scarier proposition, just as a place of community and a home to films like Aftersun. Everybody’s emotional attachment to that gorgeous building aside, I hope it can be revived somewhere in some shape or form. But it’s a tricky time for cinemas, particularly art cinemas.”

And how does she feel about the fact hers may have been the last film to open the EIFF?

“I’m not sure what the status is on it today, but I know there is lots of work happening behind the scenes and I hope that a path forward can be found for it. I’m definitely not sitting here today thinking that my film was the last to open the film festival. I certainly hope that is not the case.”

Aftersun is in cinemas now