How do we process our memories? How do we wrestle with who our loved ones really are? How do we deal with revelations about our past? This film is an incredible example of this processing, wrestling, engaging with our past and the ones we spent it with.
With incredible, nuanced performances from Paul Mescal and 11-12 year old Frankie Corio as a father and daughter, Calum and Sophie, spending rare time together at a resort, this movie is a prime example of the power of cinema, the ability for movies to act as or even turn us into “empathy machines” as the late Roger Ebert once said. We soon find out that we are not just watching these scenes of a father-daughter vacation, but we are watching and processing it through Sophie as an adult watching back through her old tapes. Through a slow burn movie with just a few short glances at the adult Sophie, there is a haunted feeling to what we watch. Haunted, though, not in the sense of something scary or ominous, but in the sense that there is more going on beneath the surface of Sophie’s innocent memories from her 11 year old self. Something that she is finally in a place to dig into, process, possibly understand. The camera does some incredible work here as Charlotte Wells shows us in her debut feature that she will be a directing force to reckon with for years to come.
Two major things really worked on my heart as I both sat with this film and processed in the day or two after watching. The first is simple: I don’t want my kids to grow up. As I watched the innocent 11 year old Sophie begin to see the world in a new way, begin to process things she hadn’t noticed before, begin to grow up in the inevitable but heartbreaking way that kids do, I couldn’t help but think of my nearly 4 year old and 1 month old sleeping in my house. I checked my toddler on the camera in his room and there he was stretched out in his toddler bed, and I wondered when he had gotten so tall. Kids have such a wonderful way of seeing the world, of processing what they see in such an innocent yet somehow wise way. I know they will grow up one day, and I look forward to knowing them as adolescents and then adults. But the parenting cliche rang truer than ever as I watched Sophie grow up on screen before my eyes, the cliche of never wanting your kids to grow up.
The second thing that I’ve been processing and wrestling with is the idea of seeing your parents through new lenses. (Really this can apply to any family or friends that you grew up with or know now). We know the things we deal with in our own hearts and minds, but very often we do not get the full story of who our friends and loved ones are. What is going on beneath the surface? Behind the smile, is there really a person that is lost and defeated? Behind the joke, is there a desperation for purpose? Behind the trip, is there someone lonely and afraid of what comes next? Somehow Wells captures all of these questions on camera as we watch Calum and Sophie spend their days by the pool, in their small hotel room, and on bus tours. And all of it made me think of my parents and me as a parent. How many trips and conversations did my parents put on smiles to hide feelings underneath that I may just now be able to understand in similar shoes? How many times did my parents go out of their way to make me feel secure and loved when they might’ve felt lost in life? And similarly, what will my kids remember about me? I love them beyond explanation, but I also deal with my own feelings of lostness, defeat, and fear.
Perhaps, we never stop growing up. Like little Sophie, seeing everyday things in a whole new light, becoming an adolescent, at different stages in life we begin to process familiar things in new ways, old memories in a new light. The question is what will we do with this new perspective, this growing up? Will we neglect it and harden ourselves or will we wrestle with it and grow in empathy and love? I hope I always choose the latter.
Thanks Charlotte Wells for a film that moved me, made me think, made me grow.
