The After: Oyelowo’s raw grief overshadows uneven storytelling

The opening shot of The After lingers on David Oyelowo‘s weathered face, his eyes reflecting the glow of his rideshare app as rain streaks the windshield. This is a man drowning in grief, and Misan Harriman’s directorial debut doesn’t waste time with exposition. The film, an expansion of Harriman’s Oscar-nominated short, is a raw, unflinching dive into trauma, anchored by Oyelowo’s powerhouse performance.

Oyelowo plays Dayo, a rideshare driver still reeling from the violent death of a family member. When he picks up a mysterious passenger (Jessica Kate Plummer), their late-night conversation forces him to confront emotions he’s kept tightly sealed. The film’s strength lies in its specificity—Harriman and screenwriter John Julius Schwabach craft scenes that feel authentically painful, like Dayo’s explosive argument with his sister Laura (Amelie Dokubo) or his quiet, heartbreaking moment of breakdown in the car.

Yet The After stumbles when it tries to broaden its scope. The supporting cast, including standout turns from Ellen Francis as Rebecca and Tara-Binta Collins as Amy, are compelling but underutilized. Their storylines feel tacked on, diluting the intimate power of Dayo’s journey. The film also struggles with pacing; Harriman’s direction is confident but occasionally overly deliberate, particularly in the third act, where emotional beats land with a thud rather than a resonance.

What saves The After from melodrama is its commitment to authenticity. The sound design—especially the claustrophobic hum of the car’s heater and the distant wail of sirens—creates an immersive atmosphere of isolation. And Harriman’s cinematography, often framed tightly around Oyelowo’s face, makes the audience feel like they’re trapped in Dayo’s grief with him.

In the end, The After is a flawed but fiercely honest drama that benefits from bold performances and unvarnished emotion.

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The film’s themes of grief and confrontation are not new, but Harriman’s approach feels fresh. Unlike conventional dramas that might offer neat resolutions or cathartic releases, The After lingers in the discomfort of unresolved pain. This is a film for those who appreciate ambiguity and the raw, unfiltered experience of sorrow. It’s a stark contrast to more polished dramas like Maestro, which relies on lush visuals and sweeping scores to convey emotion. The After trusts its audience to sit with the discomfort, making it a challenging but rewarding watch.

Oyelowo’s performance is the film’s cornerstone. He doesn’t just portray grief; he embodies it in every tense muscle, every fleeting glance, and every stuttered breath. His chemistry with Plummer is electric, their scenes together crackling with unspoken tension and unresolved history. The supporting cast, though less developed, adds depth to the narrative. Amelie Dokubo as Laura brings a quiet strength, while Ellen Francis as Rebecca offers moments of levity that ground the film in reality.

However, the film’s attempt to weave multiple storylines into Dayo’s central arc feels forced. The subplots involving characters like Stewart (Sule Rimi) and Jessica (Dominique Tipper) add layers but also dilute the focus. These threads feel more like afterthoughts than integral parts of the narrative, pulling the audience away from the emotional core of Dayo’s journey.

Harriman’s direction is both a strength and a weakness. His cinematography is intimate and immersive, using tight frames and natural lighting to create a sense of claustrophobia. However, his pacing occasionally falters, particularly in the film’s latter stages. The third act feels rushed, with emotional beats landing more heavily than they resonate deeply. This is a missed opportunity, as the film’s potential for profound impact is undercut by its hurried conclusion.

The sound design is another standout element. The hum of the car’s heater, the distant wail of sirens, and the muffled voices of other passengers create an atmosphere of isolation that mirrors Dayo’s internal state. This attention to detail elevates the film from a simple drama to an immersive experience.

The After is not for everyone. It demands patience and a willingness to engage with discomfort. But for those who appreciate raw, unfiltered emotion and powerful performances, it offers a compelling exploration of grief and confrontation.