"If We're Not Still Excited by Cinema's Untapped Potential, Then We're in Trouble": Mark Jenkin on "Rose of Nevada"
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"If We're Not Still Excited by Cinema's Untapped Potential, Then We're in Trouble": Mark Jenkin on "Rose of Nevada"
"In 2012, Mark Jenkin wrote his self-proclaimed manifesto " Silent Landscape Dancing Grain 13 ," a series of vows of chastity à la Dogme 95; among other strictures, the Cornish director promised to shoot his films in black-and-white, keep them under 80 minutes and use only natural or available light, post-synched sound and diegetic music. Only a handful of projects Jenkin's made since then would meet all those criteria."
"Jenkin wears many hats-aside from writing and directing, he routinely edits and shoots his own films. As cinematographer, he works with antiquated cameras, photographing his last three features on a clockwork Bolex H16 with a maximum runtime of 28 seconds per take, and likes to hand-process his films himself, as he did for the stupefying 2015 short Bronco's House and again in Bait."
"Flashes, marks and splotches crop up everywhere on his frames, but to call those aberrations would be to miss the point. Cornwall's rampant depopulation over rising costs and unchecked tourism has long been one of Jenkin's crucial thematic preoccupations; his films often register as tributes to lifestyles and communities on the brink of extinction. In this sense, the worn-out visuals dovetail with the dilapidated settings, playing like weathered artefacts washed ashore from raging seas."
Mark Jenkin established strict filmmaking vows in 2012, including black-and-white, under-80-minute runtime, natural light, post-synched sound, and diegetic music. Few subsequent projects meet all those criteria. Jenkin writes, directs, edits and shoots his films, favoring antiquated cameras like a clockwork Bolex H16 with 28-second takes and hand-processing techniques used in Bronco's House and Bait. Flashes, marks and splotches appear on frames intentionally, aligning with themes of Cornwall's depopulation, rising costs and unchecked tourism. Worn visuals echo dilapidated settings, suggesting weathered artefacts and an openness to the unexpected. Rose of Nevada continues as a ghost story featuring a fishing boat's mysterious reappearance after thirty years.
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