Dir: Mark Jenkin | CAST: George McKay, Callum Turner, Francis Magee, Rosalind Eleazar, Mary Woodvine | UK fantasy thriller 2025
Whenever fishing comes up my thoughts go out to my great grandfather, a master mariner on the east coast of Lincolnshire. He and his crew lost their lives during the First World War, when an unexploded mine destroyed their vessel. So these morbid recollections make Rose of Nevada even more chilling for me.
This West Country ghost story comes from Mark Jenkin, one of England’s most talented living auteurs. Set in a Cornish fishing community, it deals with the constant presence of death and danger for those poor souls who venture out into the ‘cruel sea’ (aka Nicolas Monserrat) to make a living. Although fishing rarely does nowadays in a depressed and impoverished industry that once held its head high.
Grainy and grim, Jenkin’s images, shot on 16mm, distill the squalid dampness of the English seaside offseason, and although this is set in the more clement months there is still a shivery spasm on seeing dripping taps, mildewed corners, and that persistent leak from the roof that soaks the dingy carpet with rainwater, as the chilly camera creeps over the damp backwater of this squalid village down on his knees. Repetitive shots of glaring faces, stomping feet and an uncanny soundscape suggest a nihilistic event that happened in the past and threatens to strike again, echoed in a dreamlike daytime nightmare of the main character, an introspective loner called Nick (George MacKay), who joins bibulous wayfarer Liam (Callum Turner) to crew a bobbing trawler that has mysteriously returned to dock thirty years after it was lost at sea in a storm.
In this mood-driving ghost thriller, Jenkin is back on home territory, a world where locals make a tough and precarious living from going out on fish trawlers. (Bait was in black and white, but this is in the rich and vivid colour more reminiscent of Super 8 home movies.) Themes of isolation, depression and emotional ambiguity pervade, the film’s strength lies in its ability to bewilder – and it’s certainly spooky while never drifting into the realms of horror. Jenkin abandons a defined narrative arc instead opting for a haunting atmosphere, and strong tonal control. Slightly more narrative clarity and fuller characterisation would have made this auteurish tale resonate more with mainstream audience, but committed cineastes will not be disappointed.
NOW IN UK CINEMAS