Synopsis
The fishing vessel Rose of Nevada suddenly reappears in a struggling Cornish village. Hoping the boat might revive the community's fortunes, a new crew is assembled, including family man Nick and drifter Liam.
Written and Directed by Mark Jenkin
Starring George MacKay and Callum Turner
Review
Rose of Nevada is one of those films where, the moment the credits roll, you find yourself staring blankly into space trying to work out what you’ve just watched. Unfortunately, that blank stare then follows you home, sits beside you while you make a cup of tea, and occasionally reappears days later asking if you've figured it out yet.
Honestly, who knows where to start with this one?
The premise is certainly intriguing. There’s a healthy dose of fishy-wishy-timey-wimey stuff (as Bob so eloquently put it), but I’m still unsure if it was a waste of my own timey-wimey.
It plays around with fate, sacrifice, and the consequences of choice. In theory, it’s exactly the kind of concept that should be right up my alley. In practice, I spent much of the runtime trying to decide whether I was fascinated or simply confused.
George MacKay and Callum Turner are the sort of names that immediately make me sit up and take notice on a cast list. MacKay certainly gets the better deal here, with Nick given the higher stakes and the more emotionally demanding material. He gets opportunities to show genuine range, although there are moments where his expression seems to settle somewhere between existential dread and complete bewilderment... which... to be fair, Same.
Turner, meanwhile, feels somewhat underserved. His character Liam, remains frustratingly elusive throughout. I could understand the decisions he was making, but I never felt like I truly understood him. Something always seemed just out of reach. Thinking back to his role in Eternity, I’m beginning to suspect that Callum Turner may simply be cornering the market in playing men whose choices make me increasingly exasperated. Whether that’s intentional or not, it's becoming a pattern.
The film is at its strongest during the sequences aboard the boat. These scenes have an oddly hypnotic quality, leaning into the Groundhog Day-esque repetition of danger and survival, sacrifice and self-preservation. These events create a strange tension where you know what's coming, yet remain curious to see how it plays out this time. In fact, the boat itself almost becomes the film's most significant character, its presence looming over everything that happens.
Where Rose of Nevada ultimately lost me was in its presentation. I know there are undoubtedly artistic reasons behind the deliberately vintage aesthetic, but it simply isn't a style that works for me. Give me a clean image. Give me a full screen. Here, the visual choices felt more distracting than evocative. In a film that's already asking the audience to work hard to keep up with what's happening, adding another layer felt less like an enhancement and more like another obstacle.
The frustrating thing about Rose of Nevada is that I can see the film it wants to be. There are fascinating ideas buried beneath the surface, strong performances at its core, and moments that genuinely linger in the mind. Yet even after sitting with it for a while, I'm still struggling to decide whether it was a rewarding puzzle or simply an overcomplicated one.
Maybe that's the point. Or maybe I'm still stuck somewhere in the fishy-wishy-timey-wimey loop trying to figure it out.
What you should do
I notoriously have very dubious opinions on movies, and the strong opinion on this one is that it's very good. So I would highly recommend ignoring everything I've written above and watch it for yourself.
Movie thing you wish you could take home
Ultimately, I would like the time back, which feels slightly mean on my part.
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