The Aftermath (2018)
Based on the novel of the
same name, The Aftermath is a provocative
exploration of regret, loss, guilt, and lust.
When Rachel Morgan (Keira
Knightley) arrives in Germany still reeling from the
death of their son in the Blitz, she does not expect to
share her home with the original occupant. Her
workaholic husband Lewis (Jason Clarke) assures her that
it’s all right, there’s no need to show discourtesy to
Stephen Lubert (Alexander Skarsgård ). But everywhere
she looks, Rachel sees reminders of her loss, of the war
they fought against this country. Shadowed outlines
where portraits of Hitler used to hang. Beautiful
furniture that does not belong to her. A priceless piano
her son would have loved to play on.
She attempts to rekindle her
romance with her husband, but his detachment while he
also grapples with their son’s death leaves a gap
between them. A space in her heart and body that, if
she’s not careful, her German host may fill…
Though at its heart the tale
of a torrid love affair, the film also grapples with
more serious issues, such as the devastation in Germany
after the war. It reminds us that British bombers
leveled cities, left parents childless, and children
parentless. It shows us a country of starving, desperate
people, and those who cannot find it in their hearts to
forgive them the sins of the Nazis. The camera peers
through rubble, and finds bodies entwined beneath broken
stone. It shows us the hardship faced by parents who
lose their child. The guilt and remorse of those unable
to stop a loss after it happens. And now these
conflicted, turbulent emotions can drive people into one
another’s arms, to experience a “need” both of them need
filled. It’s lust. And to explain it any other way makes
no sense. The lust of a lonely, desperate woman whose
husband seems out of reach, and a man who has lost
everything from his wife, to his relationship with his
daughter, to the home he lives in, which now “belongs”
to someone else, an occupier. It’s neither a cautionary
tale (though you could call it “how neglect leads to
broken bonds”) nor complicit in its adultery, but leaves
the audience with mixed emotions – surprise,
disappointment, even relief. It features beautiful
performances, costumes, hairstyles, and the glamour of
post-war life. The emotions feel raw and real. The music
is haunting. But it’s hard to root for the gasping,
clutching lust at its core. It’s simply less meaningful
than the things around it.
Sexual Content:
Two sex scenes (movement, nudity), one of them long and tender;
other inferences of preparing for, or post-sex; a man talks about wanting to see
his wife out of her dress; a couple undress together and clutch at each other.
Nude paintings hang around the house. A soldier says a couple of bodies wanted
one last bit of pleasure during the bombings.
Language:
One f-word, one use of “bastard,” some use of “bloody,” and abuse
of God’s name, Jesus’ name is abused twice.
Violence:
Bodies are found in the rubble (bloodied,
mummified skeletons). A man is shot through the head; another is shot through
the neck and bleeds to death; a person drowns; a riot turns bloody.
Other:
Smoking and drinking.
