In a movie like Aftersun, the protagonist’s vague memories and the opacity of Paul Mescal’s tragic character feel crucial to the film, as young Sophie tries to piece together who her father was. All Dirt Roads, however, never attempts to explore who Mack becomes as a woman and how her recollections have affected her. Without any interest in her interior life, it’s unclear why we should care that these events happened to her in the first place.
Not unlike last year’s “Aftersun,” Jackson handles memory with the lucidity of emotion and sensation as the only truth that one can extract from recollection. The snippets of life that shape how we move through the world speak to us in whispers of consciousness, sometimes many years after the fact. They become inextricable from us, and we must try to interpret them not logically but instinctively.
If “Dirt Roads” bears any recent comparison in its audaciously non-linear excavation of remembered joy and sorrow, especially as experienced with a beloved parent, it's to Charlotte Wells' “Aftersun,” also produced by Barry Jenkins and distributed by A24.
Produced by fellow filmmaker Barry Jenkins and getting a release through A24 just like last year’s incredible Aftersun, which would make for a great double feature with this, Jackson's vision is one that feels so alive in how it leaves you unable to look away for fear of missing any individual moment.
All Dirt Roads was produced by Barry Jenkins’ PASTEL, who is coming off another deeply moving portrait of fractured memory and time with Charlotte Wells’ Aftersun; it’s commendable just how much freedom both first-time directors are given.
Films like this, whether they be the works of Malick, Jenkins or even last year's Aftersun, suggest that the type of impressionistic filmmaking often associated with experimentalism can also cross over into more traditional methods of storytelling.