Enys Men
Following his critically acclaimed Bait, Mark Jenkin returns to Cornwall for another remarkably original feature.
It was back in 2019 that the Cornish filmmaker Mark Jenkin suddenly came to the fore with his first feature, Bait. That film displayed an originality that extended to the way in which it had been shot in black and white on 16 mm. Kodak stock. Indeed, its style often evoked silent cinema. Despite it being challengingly off-beat, the critical approval for that film led to wider public interest in it than anyone had anticipated. What we have now is Jenkin’s second feature, a work hardly less individual but in very different ways. Whether or not the response will be as favourable this time is an open question. That's not just on account of this being a demanding film, but also due to the fact that it is being promoted as a folk horror tale, a description which would lead most potential viewers to expect something very different from what Enys Men actually offers.
I am told that the title derives from Cornish words which translate as Stone Island. The film does not disclose this, but its sole location is indeed a rocky island off the coast of Cornwall. Here a volunteer ecologist is living alone and we see that her work involves daily checks on wild flowers at a cliff edge where she takes the temperature of the soil and records any changes. This character, played by Mary Woodvine who also appeared in Bait, remains nameless but is absolutely the central figure. The film records her solitary existence while also showing us other images which exist in her head - these can be interpreted as past memories or imaginary presences. They do include visuals that evoke ancient ceremonies and folk traditions so one can understand why this film, itself set in 1973, should encourage some to think of movies such as The Wicker Man made in that very year. Furthermore, Jenkin’s emphasis on the red clothing of the ecologist vividly recalls the impact of red in Nicolas Roeg’s classic Don't Look Now, another film dating from that year. But, even though Jenkin doubtless had those titles in mind, they told dramatic, violent stories which led to scenes of horror and that is exactly what Enys Men refuses to offer except through decidedly vague and obscure hints.
Indeed, for over half of its length Enys Men suggests nothing at all to do with horror in any shape or form. Instead, it plays as a poetic meditation centred on time. If the sound of the sea suggests timelessness and if an old tower and an ancient rock monolith are reminders of a timescale that extends through centuries, these elements serve to emphasise the limited existence that is the human lifespan. Furthermore, the life of our central figure feels additionally circumscribed by the fact that she has no contact with others beyond a radio link and the occasional visits of a boatman (Edward Rowe) who brings her supplies including petrol for a generator that she relies on. There is also the fact that her task involves a routine carried out in the same way each day, a visit to the clifftop which is always accompanied by a ritual of her own in which she drops a stone down a shaft, the silence broken only at the moment when it finally lands in the distant water.
Some critics have suggested that, whatever merits Enys Men may have, it soon becomes boring due to featuring scenes that depict the woman's daily routine over and over again. However, I suspect that that response is the consequence of expecting a horror narrative rather than a poetic meditation about human life and aging. In time lichen grows on one of the flowers and then becomes more extensive, even appearing eventually to grow out of a scar on the woman's body. That’s a motif that could be built up and up in a standard horror movie, but here it suggests a rebuttal of the woman’s regular observation written in her notebook alongside the daily temperature: "no change". Her life may seem to be always the same, but the growth of the lichen on her body suggests the transformation of aging, just as the house that she occupies is shown on occasion decayed by the course of time.
The miracle of Enys Men is that, despite the repetitive actions and despite the film’s minimalist style (one that includes having very little dialogue), Jenkin handles the material in a way that provides a masterclass in filmmaking. In addition to being writer and director here, he is photographer, editor and composer and these elements combine to make Enys Men a true work of art. The various set-ups of the shots, the striking use of colour, the rich variety of viewpoints brought out by the editing and the powerful sense of atmosphere enhanced by the use of natural sounds and by Jenkin’s own splendid music score: all of these contribute to making this a riveting film experience if one accepts the material on its own terms.
If, nevertheless, Enys Men strikes me as being less than a masterpiece, it is because the later stages increasingly feature aspects that add to the obscurity of the film’s over-all aim. Early on it is acceptable enough when images of a girl (Flo Crowe) appear and cause us to think that she might be the dead daughter of the central character as remembered by her. Later, however, there is an indication that she might actually be the woman herself when younger and the mysteries of the film steadily increase. At times it is implied that events yet to come have been anticipated, a sexual encounter may be real or imagined and what are we to make of brief scenes featuring a preacher, a baby and a miner? Add images of May children and evocations of potentially sacrificial ritual and there does seem to be a move towards folk horror but, given the refusal to embrace it, that increases the sense that Jenkin has failed to express clearly enough just what it was that he intended to convey here. Nevertheless, the quality of much of Enys Men is such that it needs to be seen regardless of any failings (and some viewers may, of course, see it in an entirely different way from myself and interpret it accordingly). What really matters is this: if Bait looked like a unique exercise that might have been a memorable one-off, Enys Men establishes Mark Jenkin as an artist with skills that go well beyond that. Even if it is imperfect, this second feature actually enhances his standing.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Mary Woodvine, Edward Rowe, Flo Crowe, John Woodvine, Joe Gray, Loveday Twomlow.
Dir Mark Jenkin, Pro Denzil Monk, Screenplay Mark Jenkin, Ph Mark Jenkin, Pro Des Joe Gray and Mae Voogd, Ed Mark Jenkin, Music Mark Jenkin, Costumes Alice King and others.
Bosena/Film4/Sound/Image Cinema Lab-BFI.
91 mins. UK. 2022. UK Rel: 13 January 2023. Cert. 15.
