After the loss of his son, a police officer, Michael Darcy (Timothy J. Cox) is tasked with deciding how he will deal with his trauma. His son was murdered, and Michael, a lawman himself, has connections and the ability to find the man responsible. Does he hunt the man down and exact revenge, or does he allow the law to bring the man to justice? Only time will tell.
I can’t even imagine the trauma that Michael must have been dealing with after going through something like this, and I’d venture to guess that the majority of viewers would struggle to fully understand all that this character, and his daughter Annie (Beth Metcalf), is going through in After. There’s a bridge to be gapped, and Director Thomas Angeletti and Writer Cox ensure that before the film moves too far forward that viewers are given the opportunity to understand. It starts with a drink. Many people can think of a time when they sat back with a beer or a glass of something harder as a way to relax after a difficult day–and that’s what Michael and Beth are seen doing throughout the entirety of After. We are given this piece of common ground, effectively leveling the playing field between viewers and the characters on screen–and we are instantly able to better understand and appreciate Annie and Michael’s plights as a result.
Then the bridging continues with a stellar performance by Cox. As he sits on the couch, doing just about everything but enjoying the glass of liquor that is helping him cope, he begins his monologue. As he talks a tear sits in the corner of his eye, clearly pained further by every word he utters–and in that moment I, and likely everyone else watching, was broken. Even as I sit here, recapping the events of After, a tear is brought to my eye. The pain in Cox’s voice, the tear that sits there, ready to emerge, and the intimacy of the cinematography in this moment allows viewers to see past the particular situation, and understand that this is a story about trauma in general. In just two minutes or so, that disconnect that once existed, that may have hindered viewers’ ability to appreciate this story, is gone. We are now fully invested in After, and we are continuously taken on a turbulent journey of emotion that is easy to understand.
There are a few minutes in the middle of After when I believe it becomes too specific. The emotion is dialed back just a touch, and we are explained to, in detail, who and what the murderer is. I feel like all that the film had worked toward up to this point is cut into, diluted a bit. Too much information about this man steals from the narrative of a grieving father and sister, and I believe that After could have been shortened by just a few minutes, eliminating this aspect of the film and sticking with the characters on screen rather than diving into a third, less-relevant character.
Metcalf is given the same opportunity as Cox, but toward the end of the film. After the conversation regarding the murderer, Metcalf is asked to bring us back to where After began, to a place filled with emotion that resonated with viewers in a spectacular way. Like Cox at the start, Metcalf delivers beautifully, reeling viewers back in and holding on tight until the film’s conclusion.
The most prominent feature of After is the lack of score. Music exists at either end of the film, and it helps to effectively bookend the tragic and dramatic story of loss. As the film opens viewers hear the somber sounds of the piano, and it immediately instills in us the idea that everything moving forward will possess a similar tone—and boy does it. However, what is equally important about this entrance is the fact that as the music abruptly comes to an end, viewers are subjected to silence. We are left to stew in the daunting emotions shared by this father-daughter duo. With the silence that exists in the background of After, viewers feel the weight of the characters’ struggles in a way that I’m not sure would have been possible had the emotion been competing with a score. This aspect of the film is perfect, and one of the reasons that I was drawn to tears.
This might be Cox’s best performance to date, and Metcalf matches him. After is an emotionally driven story that had the potential to get away from viewers had Angeletti, Cox, and Metcalf not been able to open it up at the start and make it more accessible to all. Again, this film brought tears to my eyes as both Metcalf and Cox deliver beautiful, moving performances, and the story of love and loss takes on a whole new meaning.
Directed by Thomas Angeletti.
Written by Timothy J. Cox.
Starring Timothy J. Cox & Beth Metcalf.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐/10
