Sometimes you watch a film which won't leave your headspace and you just need to talk about it.

Yesterday, I finally sat down to watch Aftersun, a film I had been eager to see ever since watching Normal People. Like many others, I was captivated by Paul Mescal's performance alongside Daisy Edgar-Jones in Normal People, and All of Us Strangers earlier this year also left me astounded by his talent. So, I approached Aftersun with high expectations, yet I deliberately avoided any background information to experience it with a fresh perspective.

From the outset, there was this subtle, yet persistent feeling that something was off. The film never explicitly directs you to this sense of unease, but it's there, lingering just beneath the surface. As I watched, I found myself searching for clues, trying to piece together what might happen, though not fully grasping why.

One moment that stands out is the scene with the television and the books beside it. I was scrutinizing the book titles, hoping for hints. Gradually, the film unfolded, and it became clearer what Calum, Paul Mescal's character, was going through. The last 15-20 minutes were especially powerful. When Calum walked towards the sea, my heart was in my mouth. The postcard scene and the final dance sequence, with an unexpectedly perfect song choice, were profoundly moving. The lyrics resonated so perfectly with the story's emotional depth.

Aftersun is one of those films that requires your full engagement to truly appreciate its depth. If you're not 100% immersed, you might miss the subtle emotional cues and the profound storytelling woven into the fabric of the memory. The film invites us in, and if we give it all our attention, it rewards us with more than we could have asked for.

The relationship between father and daughter is portrayed so realistically and rawly that you forget you're watching actors on a screen. The dialogue feels natural, not contrived to push emotions onto the audience. Often, it's the silence and the empty echoes that hit the hardest.

This morning, I found myself rewatching clips on YouTube, particularly the dance scene. Learning that the young actress, Frankie Corio, received a different script than Paul Mescal was fascinating. She wasn’t aware of the full depth of her father's struggles, making her portrayal of a carefree, happy child even more authentic.

Reflecting on scenes like Sophie’s confusion about feeling sad despite having a fun day, and watching Calum's silent resonance with her words, was masterful. The film's subtlety reveals so much more on a second viewing. Every moment is imbued with greater purpose and meaning once you understand the ending.

As a 38-year-old Scottish man, I've grown up in a culture that often suppresses emotion, especially among fathers. This film touched me deeply, exposing raw, unspoken feelings. This morning, I found myself in tears rewatching scenes, particularly the dance. Aftersun is a beautiful masterpiece that has left a lasting impact on me, resonating with the complexities of memory and emotion.

And now, feeling emotional, I've booked tickets to go see Inside Out 2 to let all my emotions run wild.