Misan Harriman & Nicky Bentham On Grappling with the Intensity of Grief in ‘The After’

I have not been able to shake Misan Harriman’s emotionally fraught film, The After, since I reviewed it back in August. It is a film that is simple in concept but towering in emotion. This is the story of one man being confronted with grief and guilt so suddenly that he finds himself changing everything about his life. Harriman’s impressive directorial debut confronts our notions of empathy towards our fellow man, and it features a incredible central performance from David Oyelowo.

This interview reveals key moments from The After. If you would like to not be spoiled, return after you see the short which is streaming now on Netflix.

Oyelowo stars as Dayo, a businessman who decides to cancel his meeting for the day to attend his daughter’s dance performance with his wife. It’s a gorgeous day, and you can tell that his family is thankful that Dayo changed his plans to spend time with them. When an unexpected, violent act takes Dayo’s family away, we witness how he picks up the pieces. Please go into this film as blind as possible.

Harriman and I were joined by producer Nicky Bentham, and her excitement for Harriman’s work was palpable and excitement. She spoke with such pride about how she got involved.

“I met Misan through some mutual friends, and we talked about working on a project together that centered around some of his photography,” Bentham reveals at the top of our conversation. “When we met for the first time, we hit it off and we talked about films we liked and what kinds of films we wanted to make. I asked him if he ever thought about making a narrative. He had said that was a lifelong dream, and when I asked if he had any ideas, he, already, had something in his head that he pitched to me in its entirety. It was amazing, because this was a long held desire of his. The more we talked about it and the more I got to know him–where this came from and what the motivations were–the more I knew it would resonate with audiences today.

I could tell it would make a great short film because the intention and the emotion behind it was so strong. And then John Julius Schwabach came on board and turned the idea into a brilliant script”

We spoke a lot about empathy and how we distance ourselves from other people–strangers especially. Since we are trying to navigate a post-COVID world, that fear of isolation is still within us. We have to remember, though, that as we pass people on the street or interact with them in our daily routine, that we don’t know what they are going through. We might assume that someone is acting like a jerk because that’s a part of their personality, but they could be going through something privately or carrying a dark weight on them.

“That’s exactly what we set out to do and exactly the story that Misan wanted to tell,” Bentham says.

“We both had to be brave to hold steady with what people had to see,” Harriman says. “We felt that the lens upon we were telling the story would have enough grace to tell such an unimaginable experience. It had to take us to that emotional place. We did a few test screenings and I remember a woman next to me was screaming. I don’t remember an emotion like that coming from an adult except from, of course, a horror movie. Sitting in the cinema and seeing that kind of reaction is a good indication of how it’s getting to people.”

The casting of Oyelowo is essential here. In films like Nightingale, Othello, and Selma, he uses his prowess with words to convey his characters’ intelligence and intention. Oyelowo is ferocious with words. In a lot of The After, however, his words are stripped away and Dayo uses his speech sparingly.

“I have kind of grown up idolizing this man, and I never thought in a million years that I would ever have a chance to work with him,” Harriman says. “He’s certainly not an actor who needs to do shorts. There was a connection with this story and this idea of going on a journey with me on my first film that was important. I was so grateful to use his talents on screen. David lost both of his parents and, I think, a lot of that was on screen. He took this film to places that left all of us–myself, Nicky, our first AD, our cinematographer–breathless even while doing it. There was a feeling of something extraordinary happening in the moment.”

“I agree–absolutely,” Bentham adds. “He can deliver lines so beautifully. In stripping that back and just being left with something so raw and naked…I could watch his face all day. With this film, it’s about what he doesn’t say and what his character suppresses. It’s heartbreaking. Since we begin with such a shocking event, we wanted the audience to know exactly what he has been through–they witness it. It felt impossible for this man to try and carry on. David is phenomenal, and he kept us on his shoulders.”

As we continued to speak about what Oyelowo brings to the film, we spoke about moments where noise–moans and whimpers–radiate out of him. Dayo aurally takes a lot in as he drives customers around in his backseat, but this event causes him to expel a lot in return, especially when he is alone. It’s an example of how Harriman wants to create a rounded, authentic experience of loss.

“In parts of Europe, in African culture, and in Latin America, the grieving is not quiet,” he says. “I’ve been to funerals and it’s not somber. There is a noise to grief climbing out of yourself even if you don’t give it permission. I think different people are going to react to it differently–and that’s what we want. On paper, what we are trying to achieve is very unconventional, especially because it is short. We wanted you to feel what was happening. That sound came out of David, and we were just thankful to him.”

I mentioned that The After would feel vastly different if we met Dayo after the incident happens. If we saw the violence in flashback of if, perhaps, his character told another character why he was grieving.

“When the event happens and it cuts to show the title card, the energy in any screening changes and you can feel the audience clutching themselves,” Harriman says. “I love the stillness of the opening of the second acts with David in the car and the memories of what happened is in his face and on his phone and in the sounds that he makes. I hope that gives people time to collect themselves and root for him in this version of his life.”

As Dayo picks up the pieces of his life and hunts for a new direction, he observes a lot as he drives people around. In the film’s final act, he drives a bickering pair of parents and their teenage daughter home from the airport. This young girl is only a few years older than Dayo’s daughter, and her eyes lock in on Dayo’s expression in the rearview mirror. When they get home, she interacts with Dayo in a way that would make people curious or alarmed, but, for Oyelowo’s character, it’s essential. If he didn’t have this interaction, he might not be able to go on with his life.

“The idea that this child is the one that recognizes this pain in this man lends itself to this humanity that we should all be working to return to,” Bentham says. “That innocence and observation and empathy with each other.”

“The celestial nature of children which is beaten out of us all…and to have this young woman–who is unseen by her own parents–actually see David and feel his need for connection is, I believe, something that will hit home with a lot of people who struggled for lockdown,” Harriman says, carefully, after a moment of reflection. “That need for physical connection was taken away from us, and we all dealt with it in different ways. She saw him when no one else did, and, by god, did he need to have that. Whether it’s physical or with just a look.”

Harriman went on as we expanded that conversation to talk about the importance of connection as we look back on events from the last few years.

“What the world has gone through in the last three years–with COVID, George Floyd, and the world, generally, just being kind of on fire–I feel like this film explores people being steeped in darkness,” he says. “If you are looking for that darkness and you are looking for the door to some kind of light, you can watch this film and sense that door even if you don’t know where it is. You may not have all the answers but you know it exists. That’s what I want audiences to really take away.

The breadth of how this film is, I think, reaching people even came close to us in our crew. I don’t need to name names, but I got a note that said that they appreciated a man showing that level of emotion and vulnerability. With the age we are in, we are always talking about masculinity and ‘what is a man?’ I think it’s really important to show David’s character stripped to the bone and to have grace in the possibility of building him back up brick by brick. I want to put that into this universe as we are here today.”

In the film’s final moments, Dayo returns to his car and leans up against the doorframe. His chest rises and falls, and he looks towards the sky. Some audiences might tie a religious or spiritual element to that glance, but the light shines on him. It’s a stunning moment, and Harriman and Bentham reflect on how they feel Dayo will carry on from here.

“I felt a notion that there is another chapter for him,” Bentham says. “It’s not necessarily going to be an easy one or he might not put all the pieces back together, but he won’t be static in the next moment. There is more to come. That simple frame at the end captures that really beautifully.”

“By the time that he has gotten up, there has already been a release,” Harriman says. “When he sits in the car, and when you’re not shooting in a controlled environment, I wanted to see a small sense of hope before driving off into his future. As we were filming that shot, the clouds cleared, and sunlight poured into the car. In that particular shot, you will see how the sun is reflected off of his skin and his eyes. It was almost as if it was being added to the script. It’s not necessarily religious but it felt definitely spiritual. However you reflect your own sense of healing, it’s within that frame.”

The After is streaming now on Netflix