The Summer Book (2024)
Death is an act of major diastrophism for everyone it touches. When a life is lost, the shockwaves ripple through those surrounding the individual and force adaptation and change as those remaining have to somehow weave a tapestry over the missing piece of the puzzle. Screening as part of the 2024 AFI Film Festival, Charlie McDowell's The Summer Book, adapting Tove Jansson's 1972 novel of the same name, looks at this difficult period of adjustment and rebuilding after a major loss through the lens of a family spending time at their summer house on an island in the Gulf of Finland.
This narrative is split between three figures, all going through the process of grief and acceptance in their own unique ways. One of these figures is Sophia (Emily Matthews), an eight-year-old girl who is trying to deal with the anxieties and emotions of losing her mother. Sophia's worldview, alongside the overall presentation of the film, is not one fully defined and consumed by grief and sadness. As she spends time with her grandmother and father, Sophia can lose herself in her happiness and the support of her family. As she explores the coast and builds small boats to float on the sea, Sophia's sadness and trauma is not always directly seen yet this is undeniably within her. In a moment of stress, anger, or sadness, Sophia's deeper emotions pop out revealing her suffering and fear as she comprehends the powerless relationship she has with death. Whether it is a parent or someone Sophia needs, there is nothing she can do to stop or prevent death which is something she doesn't fully understand or feels comfortable with.
Sophia's father, played by Anders Danielsen Lie, is more openly struggling with his place after the death of his wife. Often quiet, isolated, and distant both physically and emotionally from Sophia, his self-destruction robs him of his ability to care for his daughter and be the emotional backbone she truly needs. His grief eats away at him, leaving an almost ghostly figure that haunts the landscape. Caring for Sophia is her grandmother, played by Glenn Close, who does her best to wake Sophia's father up and get this family back on the right path. She knows her life is in its final act and that she will not be able to step up to lead this family for much longer.
All three of these performances are excellent with their own flavors and venoms which showcase different angles of grief and suffering. The film is thoughtful in its delivery and execution, crafting an empathetic story that perfectly balances the coldness of death with the warmth of family. It is difficult to imagine any audience member not getting choked up while watching the film and feeling engaged in the dialogue the feature is having on these topics. The film isn't just sad to be sad, it is far more complex and intentional about what it is presenting and the focus it chooses to have.
This narrative and emotional strength is backed up by quite strong directing from Charlie McDowell (The Discovery, The One I Love, Windfall) who teams with cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen (Another Round, Shirley, Wendy) who paints with a distinctly European visual language and focus, feeling reminiscent of the grounded dramatic works of Ingmar Bergman at times. The film uses the natural visual dialogue of the nature and setting surrounding the family to frame their emotional journeys in a way that breathes a sense of poetry and life into the project and constantly reinforces the immersion of the audience watching. While watching the film, one can taste the salty tang of the coastal air, feel the brisk chill of the wind, smell the wet earth, and overall feel this living location and story come alive through their senses which further speaks to the effectiveness of the filmmaking on display.
The Summer Book is an absolute gem of a film. Charlie McDowell crafts a thoughtful and emotional exploration of the process of grief and finding life after the loss of a loved one, delivering something that is unique to the filmmaker's voice while also embracing the rich roots of European cinema.
This narrative is split between three figures, all going through the process of grief and acceptance in their own unique ways. One of these figures is Sophia (Emily Matthews), an eight-year-old girl who is trying to deal with the anxieties and emotions of losing her mother. Sophia's worldview, alongside the overall presentation of the film, is not one fully defined and consumed by grief and sadness. As she spends time with her grandmother and father, Sophia can lose herself in her happiness and the support of her family. As she explores the coast and builds small boats to float on the sea, Sophia's sadness and trauma is not always directly seen yet this is undeniably within her. In a moment of stress, anger, or sadness, Sophia's deeper emotions pop out revealing her suffering and fear as she comprehends the powerless relationship she has with death. Whether it is a parent or someone Sophia needs, there is nothing she can do to stop or prevent death which is something she doesn't fully understand or feels comfortable with.
Sophia's father, played by Anders Danielsen Lie, is more openly struggling with his place after the death of his wife. Often quiet, isolated, and distant both physically and emotionally from Sophia, his self-destruction robs him of his ability to care for his daughter and be the emotional backbone she truly needs. His grief eats away at him, leaving an almost ghostly figure that haunts the landscape. Caring for Sophia is her grandmother, played by Glenn Close, who does her best to wake Sophia's father up and get this family back on the right path. She knows her life is in its final act and that she will not be able to step up to lead this family for much longer.
All three of these performances are excellent with their own flavors and venoms which showcase different angles of grief and suffering. The film is thoughtful in its delivery and execution, crafting an empathetic story that perfectly balances the coldness of death with the warmth of family. It is difficult to imagine any audience member not getting choked up while watching the film and feeling engaged in the dialogue the feature is having on these topics. The film isn't just sad to be sad, it is far more complex and intentional about what it is presenting and the focus it chooses to have.
This narrative and emotional strength is backed up by quite strong directing from Charlie McDowell (The Discovery, The One I Love, Windfall) who teams with cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen (Another Round, Shirley, Wendy) who paints with a distinctly European visual language and focus, feeling reminiscent of the grounded dramatic works of Ingmar Bergman at times. The film uses the natural visual dialogue of the nature and setting surrounding the family to frame their emotional journeys in a way that breathes a sense of poetry and life into the project and constantly reinforces the immersion of the audience watching. While watching the film, one can taste the salty tang of the coastal air, feel the brisk chill of the wind, smell the wet earth, and overall feel this living location and story come alive through their senses which further speaks to the effectiveness of the filmmaking on display.
The Summer Book is an absolute gem of a film. Charlie McDowell crafts a thoughtful and emotional exploration of the process of grief and finding life after the loss of a loved one, delivering something that is unique to the filmmaker's voice while also embracing the rich roots of European cinema.