By Keri O’Shea
Families. They’re funny things. Think about it: with no say on your part, you may find yourself tied, for the duration of your mortal existence, to a rag-tag assembly of people with whom you have very little in common, if anything at all. And yet, for all that – they still matter hugely. They always matter, even if you’ve fallen out, even if you’ve stopped speaking altogether.
After Death takes a look at what happens to a group of grown-up siblings after the sudden demise of their estranged father; it has been seven years since they saw him. So, they all gather at the house they grew up in, as is the right thing to do, and they try to balance the customary issue of managing their grief alongside all of the hard graft which needs to be done when a person shuffles off the mortal coil – shifting the deceased’s belongings, managing their estate, and so on. In this case, it seems, their dad was something of a character; he was an amateur scientist as well as a collector, and there is one room in the house – his laboratory – which they can’t get into. Not only this, but as the initial shock of loss begins to fade, the family need to come to terms with a lot of things which have happened in that seven years, and just before they parted ways too. Oh, and time, it seems, is against them; the house is at risk of being sold…
What follows, after a lengthy preamble which establishes the characters at the heart of the story, is (contrary to what I expected) a family drama which integrates a spot of gentle sci-fi into the mix. After Death isn’t just about coming to terms with loss; it’s a sojourn into a very unusual take on the Afterlife.
The first comment I’d make here is that this is an incredibly British film. From the phraseology (“You’re such a knob” is not, to my knowledge, an expression which has crossed the Atlantic) to the elder brother’s celeb-obsessed girlfriend who desperately wants to emulate Jordan, right down to the rather grand family seat which is at stake – not to mention a cameo performance from Leslie bloody Phillips – this is an Anglophile’s dream and potentially a rather strange state of affairs for a non-Brit. But that’s okay; there’s nothing here that’s incomprehensible, only that it hinges upon a lot of British references. The success of these references depends on something which the film does very well, and that is to put into play a nicely-observed script and a keen eye for the minutiae of upset, broken-down people. Of all the siblings in this story, it’s youngest sister Eloise (the pre-Raphaelite-looking Claira Watson Parr) who stands out most, being a young woman still anchored to childhood issues and, in her vulnerability, often a bit annoying, as well as sympathetic.
However, to build up the characterisation, the film spends a lot of time dwelling on the intricacies of family dynamics and this means a plot which is very low on action. It feels well overdue for its twist when the film finally shows its hand and moves into new territory. The film stays low-key throughout however, and for many readers of this site it will be off-putting because of this. Which is in many ways a shame, as what After Death throws in there, though doesn’t quite exploit fully, is a nice little spin on the notion of life after death. To say too much here would be to spoiler, but let’s say that it has some intriguing ideas. Perhaps ultimately the film is held back by its genre-straddling style, which is something which could make it difficult for it to find a receptive audience.
There are a lot of good things to be said about After Death; it shows evidence of creativity, which is always a plus, and it has the skill to create well-rounded characters in whom you can take an interest. It’s not afraid to do things differently, either. This may be what holds it back, too, as it never quite feels like it makes the impact you anticipate from all of its elements coming together, but as the first feature by writer/director Martin Gooch it certainly shows his ability to craft kitchen sink weirdness which – who knows? – could become its own genre…