Imagine returning home only to find time has twisted around you. Mark Jenkin’s ‘Rose of Nevada’ is a mind-bending psychodrama that blurs reality, leaving audiences at Venice Film Festival questioning everything. George MacKay and Callum Turner navigate a town where the past is terrifyingly present. What would you do if your own history became a haunting trap?
Mark Jenkin, the acclaimed Cornish director, unveils his latest cinematic offering, “Rose of Nevada,” at the prestigious Venice Film Festival. This hallucinatory psychodrama masterfully fuses elements from his previous works, delving into a hypnotic study of mental disintegration while subtly exploring broader themes of economic history and societal decay.
Jenkin’s distinctive artistic vision shines through, retaining his signature glitchy, hand-distressed style that has been likened to the distorted face paintings of Francis Bacon. “Rose of Nevada” ventures closer to a horror genre piece than his prior films like “Bait” or “Enys Men,” yet it maintains a profoundly unsettling and unique aesthetic that is both haunting and visually arresting.
The film benefits from commercial casting, featuring compelling performances from George MacKay and Callum Turner. Both actors imbue their characters with a gnomic quality, perfectly suiting the disturbing and ambiguous narrative where nothing is quite certain and identities are constantly shifting, enhancing the overall psychological tension of this Venice Film Festival highlight.
The intricate plot is set in motion by the mysterious reappearance of the titular fishing boat, “Rose of Nevada,” three decades after its disappearance. A local businessman inexplicably decides to send it back to sea, recruiting a grizzled old sea salt as skipper, who in turn brings on two crewmen: the struggling young father Nick (MacKay) and the itinerant Liam (Turner).
Nick’s personal struggles to provide for his family are juxtaposed with the ominous backstory of his elderly neighbors, the Richards, whose past tragedy involving a lost son casts a long shadow. This unsettling domestic backdrop, coupled with Mrs. Richards’ fragmented memories, serves as a potent omen for the strange and terrifying events that are soon to unfold, drawing viewers deeper into the psychodrama.
Following a successful initial fishing voyage, a bizarre transformation greets the crew upon their return. The town appears busier, and time itself seems to have warped. Liam easily adapts to these altered circumstances, but Nick becomes increasingly disoriented, especially when a local newspaper mysteriously indicates the year is 1993, a time before his own birth, intensifying the film’s unsettling premise.
The uncanny mood pervades “Rose of Nevada,” drawing comparisons to Roman Polanski’s eerie 1976 chiller, “The Tenant.” Jenkin’s stylistic choices, including arch performances and non-synchronous dialogue, contribute significantly to the film’s strangeness. While initially disorienting, even the peculiar old-age makeup ultimately plays into the narrative’s unsettling exploration of altered realities.
At its core, “Rose of Nevada” is a profound exploration of personal breakdown under pressure and the broader concept of a “ghost town,” a phrase often used to describe post-industrial landscapes. This film review highlights how the psychodrama deliberately blurs the lines between reality and fantasy, suggesting that when the future seems absent, the only recourse might be an endless rewriting of the past, creating a truly unforgettable cinematic experience.
