iam (Callum Turner) and Luke (George MacKay) are best friends and hard-working fishermen somewhere on the Cornish coast, in Southwestern England (the director’s native county). They are young and good-looking males, married and with one small child girl each. They have to split their time between husband and work duties. Liam is married to the beautiful Tina, who believes there’s something wrong going on. Luke’s parents (his mum is played by Francis Magee, the star of Jenkin’s “folk horror” Enys Men, from two years ago) tell him that he disappeared at sea for three years. The poor man is convinced that he was away for no longer than just three days. The date printed on the newspaper seems to confirm his folks’ version of events. Luke has a creepy old mother who makes sudden appearances, delivering blunt and elliptical messages.
The family relations are defined by the coastal climate. Husband and wife can only be together if the winds allow. A leak on the roof can be fixed if the rain stops. Fellow fishermen offer little support to Liam (whose real name may actually be Slan) and Luke. Their boss refuses to give them a cash advance until the boat is rolling. It is invidiousness instead of empathy that prevails amongst these males. The sea does not offer them redemption. Instead, it provides them with the path to loneliness and despondency. Perhaps even insanity.
Squeezing a linear plot and a coherent narrative from Mark Jenkin’s latest film is indeed an insane thing to do. It’s equivalent to trying to make sense out of a hopelessly inebriated man narrating Alice in Wonderland. You are guaranteed to get into the rabbit hole. Rose of Nevada is deliciously intoxicated with Mark Jenkin’s idiosyncrasies, and defined by his subversive workflow. The established auteur allows shooting and editing to precede scriptwriting. In other words, he captures the images long before deciding how to put them together. Audio is added at a later stage, partly because Mark shoots exclusively on Super 8, a technology devoid of sound. As in all of Jenkin’s films, the imagery is shaky, grainy, and with very vivid colours. The orange film burns associated with the old technology are pervasive, giving the fi al product a vintage and homemade film. Despite the presence of acclaimed actors (Turner and MacKay are widely recognised British household names), the entire affair feels small and intimate.
The strange developments of Rose of Nevada are vaguely Lynchian. This is the type of film that will earn an entirely different synopsis from each writer who has seen it. After reading the synopsis on the Festival’s website, I had the impression that I watched a completely different film. This is intentional. Mark Cousins leaves the narrative threads and the loose ends in the hands of his viewers, who are free to put together their own version of the story. A magical film experience, particularly for those with a fertile imagination.
The cryptic film title refers to a metal plaque attached to a boat, which repeatedly collapses into the sea. Presumably a random name without any further significance. Jenkin is no stranger to unusual titles with a debatable meaning: his previous film (which premiered last month in Karlovy Vary) is called I Saw the Face of God in the Car Wash. Occasional chanting (ostensibly in the extremely rare Cornish language) adds yet another touch of mystery to the proceedings.
Mark Jenkin’s seventh feature film is a natural continuation of his work. It will please his devoted followers and win new fans alike. On the other hand, Rose of Nevada does not represent an evolution in the career of the 49-year-old director. That’s because it does not add anything new to his filmography, both in terms of format and content. Enys Men is far more effective in leveraging confusion and alienation in order to evoke shock, fear, and the supernatural. Despite its maritime theme and open-ended storyline, Rose of Nevada is a film a lot more grounded in reality.
Rose of Nevada premiered in the Orizzonti section of the 82nd Venice International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. Also showing at the Red Sea International Film Festival, and at the BFI London Film Festival.
