Frankie Corio and Paul Mescal in Aftersun (Cannes Critics’ Week)

For many films at Cannes this year, their success rested on the slim shoulders of child actors. James Gray’s semi-autobiographical Armageddon Time centered on sixth graders in 1980s Queens; the illegal activities of the preteen boys in directors Riley Keough and Gina Gammell’s vibrant debut War Pony shared equal time with another story line. However, Gray’s movie featured acting that was skin-deep and self-conscious, while the latter often allowed its younger cast members to nervously improvise ad nauseam.

However, in Aftersun, debut feature director Charlotte Wells has struck gold with her young discovery, Frankie Corio, who delivered one of the best and most lived-in performances in the festival’s entire lineup. Directed with a sure hand, Corio is completely unselfconscious, absorbed in her character’s observations and activities. (One gets the feeling that it’s the young actor in charge, with the director getting out of her way and following along.) The film also features the quietly compelling Paul Mescal (TV’s Normal People) as a 30-year-old father. From the get-go, both Corio and Mescal have a relaxed rapport.

The premise is deceptively simple. It may not be until the movie is over that viewers will realize that this two-hander about a Scottish father and daughter on a Turkish holiday has become a melancholy love letter—it’s a look back with sadness. Through the deft editing, viewers alternatively experience the past and the present in the narrative time line, though that may not be apparent at first.

Sophie (Corio) lives with her mother in Glasgow, while her father, Calum (Mescal), has moved to London, and this is a rare getaway for father and daughter. Dad has selected a two-star budget hotel, but the accommodation isn’t what he envisioned. First, he wanted two beds, not one, and in the morning, the jarring sounds of construction work fills the air. They’re also in a resort town favored by the British, with plenty of partying—meaning there will certainly be karaoke. On another level, the film is also a coming-of-age tale as Sophie watches older teens make out or talk frankly about sex. 

Hints are smoothly woven in to build the history of Sophie and Calum’s relationship, and Calum’s background. In the first half, he wears a cast on his right arm for reasons that can be guessed at. The movie’s melancholy mood is subtly introduced during Calum’s unguarded moments, as he’s viewed through Sophie’s camera, when he believes he’s alone and unobserved. (One indication that this is set in the recent past is Sophie’s omnipresent camcorder, which she uses to record her holiday.)

The script doles out sufficient information to allow viewers to draw their own conclusions, and under Wells’s direction, the restrained Mescal reveals enough for Calum to retain a modicum of mystery. In only two instances does the actor give 100 percent, including a scene in which Calum breaks loose on the dance floor, exposing a carefree party boy at heart. Fans of Mescal’s work will be at home here. 

Forget the films that competed for the Palme d’Or. Programmed in the smaller Critics’ Week sidebar, with its venue away from the madding crowd on the red carpet, Aftersun became a hot ticket during the festival’s first weekend. Judging from the audience reaction at my screening, many viewers, mostly women, were left teary-eyed. It definitely draws on father-and-daughter relationships. 

Aftersun was acquired during the festival by A24.