THE STORY – A mysterious boat returns to a village 30 years after vanishing. Two men join its crew hoping for better fortune. After one voyage, they find themselves transported back in time, mistaken for the original crew.
THE CAST – George MacKay, Callum Turner, Francis Magee, Edward Rowe, Rosalind Eleazar, Mary Woodvine & Adrian Rawlins
THE TEAM – Mark Jenkin (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 114 Minutes
Life is full of mysteries, and sometimes you need to look it right in the eye in order to get a better understanding of the complexities you’re dealing with. That is always at the heart of experimental film. The presentation may be an effort that is intentionally steering away from the familiar archetypes that traditional stories fit within. Sometimes they are meant to be almost antagonistic towards an audience, daring them to connect with esoteric material that challenges perception to a nearly unpleasant degree. That may be a tactic for some, but even the more successful efforts still manage to conjure some emotional investment, despite the dark and twisted visions. That seems to be a specialty for director Mark Jenkin, and “Rose of Nevada” fits within that framework. It’s often a daring showcase, even if the mechanics of its story are surprisingly not quite as strangely conceived as its aesthetics.
In a seemingly quiet fishing village along the British coast, the townsfolk seem discontent with their industry, which has seemingly stalled. For many, they have not recovered from the traumatic event of one of their boats having gone missing thirty years ago, taking its crew along with it. Now a new expedition is planned, and one of the locals, Nick (George MacKay), intends to take the job as a means to earn cash for a home repair. As for Liam (Callun Turner), he’s a stranger who has drifted in with no ties to this community but is desperate for any money he can grab. When they set out, the work appears promising, until strange visions and apparitions begin to haunt them. When they return, something even more bizarre has occurred. They seemed to have traveled back in time to when this vessel first vanished. Not only that, but Nick and Liam have assumed the identities of those once forgotten men. As they work to unravel this mystery, they will attempt to uncover some of their own inner secrets.
Just like with his previous film, “Enys Men”, Jenkin has a great attention to the details of filmmaking, bringing a highly textured world to life. Capturing images on 16mm, the imagery boasts a timeless, classic aesthetic that is uniquely associated with this format. The environment appears modern, but the super-grainy look also makes it feel somewhat dated, out of time. It fits perfectly with the tone of this piece. As you watch, you can’t help but feel like it’s some old home movie or lost film that has just been resurrected. Much like our characters, the world Jenkins creates exhibits a kind of dissonance that is wholly fascinating. The same applies to the immersive sound design, which was entirely created during the post-production process. The low, haunting hum of the score combines with the ominous atmospheric soundscape. The booming noises of the ship, the quiet whispers of suspicious voices, the crashing of the waves that also collides with breaking ceilings and falling bodies. It’s a constantly intriguing aura that is unfolding, wrapped in a mystery that yearns to be unearthed.
Yet, within that mystery, the actual narrative proves not as drenched in complexity as the filmmaking would have you believe. For all its surrealism on display, the actual story never deviates from a fairly straightforward message. As soon as this group leaves and returns, it’s quickly figured out what has happened, where exactly in time they have arrived, and what these newfound relationships now mean to these men. It’s evident that Liam is a man with no connections, and suddenly finding himself having a partner and daughter gives him a new sense of foundation. For Nick, his attachments contribute to his guilt, the fear of inadequacies that he feels must be conquered in order to achieve self-actualization. Thematically and narratively, these are concepts that are not particularly complicated. One wishes these elements were left more ambiguous, allowing for more interpretation from the audience to formulate an entirely different set of ideas. While Jenkin’s eye has grand ambitions when it comes to the craft, the writing is oddly restrained and, admittedly, conventional in comparison.
Films like these are usually bolstered more by their craft than the performances, where actors can sometimes amount to glorified props as a means to move them in line with the filmmaking. That description would be a disservice to the performers here, especially ones as capable as MacKay and Turner. The former makes a much more lasting impression, with his haunted face continually providing a compelling aura. His own arc is one that is inherently more engrossing, and therefore, he ends up giving the more noteworthy performance. Turner brings an absorbing swagger to him that fits this thin character nicely, even if all that affectation doesn’t reveal anything much more complex beneath the surface. Both feel more like fixtures among this ensemble, who all feel like actual residents of this small town with all their eccentricities. Francis Magee, as the jolly boat captain with an insidious air about him, is delightfully entrancing, and Mary Woodvine delivers an unsettling turn as an ailing mother yearning to be reunited with her lost son. The scenes in the present day are especially creepy, with her long, stringy hair, hushed tone, and vacant stare, which are effectively deployed to unnerve the audience.
Jenkins is clearly a filmmaker with a very particular sensibility that may not be for everyone. “Rose of Nevada” follows in that direction, but with aspects that could prove polarizing, much of it remains captivating. The gritty visuals and enveloping sound design entice you into a hypnotic landscape, drawing you in to uncover the mysteries that await discovery. However, the ultimate flaw of the film is that those questions have somewhat straightforward answers, with the plot’s mechanics not being nearly as strangely conceived as the filmmaker’s tactics. At the same time, those decisions are still enthralling, as is the screen presence brought by the entire cast. For some, the narrative’s stronger foundation will be an asset. For others, it’s an underwhelming aspect that detracts from the overall enjoyment of the read. Either way, the film remains a fascinating piece that showcases a high level of creativity, making it worthy of being experienced.
