2022 ‧ Experimental/Folk Horror ‧ 91m
Mark Jenkin, an independent filmmaker from Cornwall, opened Enys Men at Cannes last year with a US release last month. The film is now available on demand.
Set in 1973, a volunteer, played by Mary Woodvine, stays on a remote Cornish island. Everyday she does a series of tasks, noting temperature, and changes of plant life. She drops a rock into a shaft by a ruined lighthouse, listening to it fall. We see this routine play out a number of times, one can’t help but think of Sisyphus with her daily rock drop. She becomes obsessed with some flowers growing on the cliffside, and the lichen growing near. It isn’t a film with a lot of action, but it has a mood and an atmosphere that is effective and dread inducing. The viewer may be left with questions about ghosts, memories, and doppelgangers.
Shot on 16mm, Jenkin nails the early 70s aesthetic and feel. One could almost believe it’s a recently discovered “lost” film from that era. Like we are watching something meant to be forgotten. This adds to the tension and surreality. The color palette, with Woodvine’s reoccurring red jacket, is rich and saturated. Heightening the otherworldliness of the island. At 91 minutes, the film has just enough time to get under your skin without overstaying its welcome.
The film has some subtle and superficial influences. Bergman’s Persona comes to mind, as well as The Shining and Don’t Look Now. At risk of a mild spoiler, it would be interesting to see the Creepshow segment "The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill" as “a short before the feature” with Enys Men.
The mood and atmosphere will be hypnotic to some, while others may find it tiresome. Though there is something to appreciate in what Jenkins is trying out, some audiences will likely get frustrated. Another experimental horror film from this year, Skinamarink¸ similarly tried audiences’ patience. If you got something out of that film, you are more than likely to get something out of Enys Men. As a narrative, it might feel lacking. As an experiment in subdued folk horror, it works.
Grade: C+/B-