Rose of Nevada

Movies can do a lot to us. They can make us laugh, they can make us cry, and when you fully give yourself over to the story you’re watching, they can make you feel just about everything in between. But I think the best movies are the ones that don’t simply make you feel something in the moment — but allow those feelings to linger. They stay in your mind like a dream, or in some cases, a nightmare, refusing to let go long after the credits roll. Mark Jenkin’s new film, Rose of Nevada, is exactly that kind of movie. What you witness here will stick with you long after the story ends.

Set in a Cornish harbor town, the film follows two men whose very different lives have somehow led them to the same place. Liam (Callum Turner) and Nick (George MacKay) have both been dealt rough hands by life. Nick lives in a home that is literally falling apart around him, while Liam spends his days squatting in a decaying warehouse or drinking at the local pub. Their situations eventually lead them aboard The Rose of Nevada, a ship that has mysteriously reappeared after being lost at sea for thirty years.

After some debate, the village decides to send the ship back out, hoping it might somehow bring good fortune back to the harbor. Liam and Nick join the ship’s captain (Francis Magee) on the voyage, and the trip proves unexpectedly successful. But when they return home feeling triumphant, something feels off. Places that once stood empty are suddenly full of life, and Liam and Nick are mistaken for two men who disappeared thirty years earlier. It slowly becomes clear that The Rose of Nevada hasn’t just returned from sea — it has somehow traveled back in time.

While Liam embraces this strange new reality, Nick desperately wants to return to the life he left behind.

Written and directed by Mark Jenkin, Rose of Nevada is a hypnotic experience, one that completely immerses you through its imagery, sound design, and sheer creativity. This is less a film driven by traditional structure and more one built like a puzzle that slowly invites you to piece it together. Jenkin uses every cinematic tool available to enrich the story he’s telling, particularly through his use of 16mm photography, which gives the film an almost dreamlike texture. Through these stunning visuals, he crafts a story about longing, loss, and the invisible things that bind people together.

What really pulls you into Rose of Nevada is the atmosphere. Jenkin creates an almost overwhelming sensory experience through sound alone. The creaking of the ship’s hull, the crashing waves, the constant groan of the sea — it all creates a rhythm that makes you feel like you’re trapped aboard the vessel alongside these characters. The film becomes less something you simply watch and more something you experience.

Rose of Nevada is unlike anything else you’re likely to see this year. Its storytelling is elusive and complex, often difficult to pin down, but that’s also what makes it so compelling. Jenkin’s visual and auditory choices create an experience that is at times unsettling, mesmerizing, and completely unforgettable. You don’t just watch Rose of Nevada — you feel it. And by the time it ends, it has already pulled you fully into its strange and haunting world.

Brian Taylor

Member of the North Texas Film Critics Association, and lover of all things Cinema