Enys Men

On an island there's a woman you will find, she has strange habits and she's losing most her mind, strange flowers keep her busy, cascading stones may make you dizzy, into a void that one assumes, was sometimes mined. She has a scar across her midriff from a cut, it went quite deep and nearly opened up her gut, along the mark she's growing lichen, perhaps she's rather over ripened, on the horizon, a strange rock protrudes and juts. On occasion she receives a man in boat, we find out later that he's buoyant and can float, although he clearly cannot swim, or make the most of his four limbs, as he's puffed up showing signs of a great bloat.

Imaginative stuff, but a little too abstract.

A woman lives in isolation on a small island off the coast of Cornwall studying its nature. She lives in a small cottage powered by the generator she must run and every day follows the same seemingly tedious routine of study, dropping a stone down an old tin mine shaft, drinking tea and going to bed reading a book on survival by candlelight. One day she discovers a new flower and starts to see visions of people from the island's past, many who have apparently been killed, she also appears to grow the same lichen on her body that has started growing on the flower.

It is fair to say per general criticism that this is a film rich in atmosphere and very little else. Nothing much happens and quite what does is heavily open to one's own interpretation. It is though unnerving, somewhat spooky and indeed rich in atmosphere as it plays heavily with temporal rules. I kinda 'enjoyed' this eerie film which has a mood which feels like a cross between The Wicker Man and an M. R. James ghost story but probably needed a tad more in the way of explanation / closure if I'm honest.

I enjoyed Bait, Jenkins' previous film so I had an idea of his odd dated style. Bait had a much more conventional narrative whereas Enys men is very layered, rhythmic and dream-like. Things like linear time and space are almost blurred occasionally. This film is highly symbolic in an almost Lynchian sense. It's unsettling in a psychological way and not in a traditional horror sense. The horror is from everyday tragedy and the haunted memories this creates.

The film is unfortunately rather boring because of the highly repetitive nature of the same person doing the same boring routine day after day. What this film lacks is stylishness and modernity. Jenkins seems obsessed with the ordinary and mundane. There are several close-ups of seagulls flying, waves crashing, woman making tea, reading a book, over and over again..... But if all you show in your films in the ordinary mundanity of life then your films will be feel that way to the viewer. Slowly more unsettling/bizarre elements are fragmented into this bland everyday existence but it doesn't break up the dull pacing.

At least after the end of the film me and my friend felt compelled to question what it all had meant. What was the point of this symbolic image or that one.

The main theme seems to be about complex unresolved grief. Grief that haunts us over and over. Survivor's guilt - what we should have done to save the person but didn't do. However, there is something more complicated than one person's grief being explored here. There is a whole Island's worth of historical grief but it is unclear how that relates to the main character in the film.

I couldn't say I would recommend this film. Maybe someone more familiar with the type of grief it was exploring would get something more out of it.

This is mostly a response to these depressing reviews. Have you never watched a moody film before?

You should already know from Bait that Jenkin is an experimental filmmaker. It's an unconventional film which is about experiencing a mood and atmosphere. The film won't spoon feed you the same storytelling tropes you've already seen a million times before, so if that makes a film "bad" to you then stay away. Don't try to understand it, just watch it.

I much preferred this to Bait. I liked the sound design, the blurring of nightmare and reality and the body horror elements.

What's he got against lichen, though?

Set in the spring of 1973, "Enys Men" follows a wildlife researcher documenting the growth of flowers on an isolated island off the coast of Cornwall, whose daily repetitive rituals slowly morph into a psychological (and possibly supernatural) nightmare.

There's really no way around it--this is certainly not a film where much "happens", and it is bound to frustrate viewers expecting a substantial payoff. You will not get it. However, there's also no way around arguing that "Enys Men" is utterly gorgeous from beginning to end. Shot on aged film stock, it is littered with scratches, lens flares, and enough textural grit to appease any self-respecting grindhouse aficionado. The island setting, riddled with stone ruins of an old settlement, is haunting and beautiful. Stylistically, it all comes together as a visual and thematic mashup of films such as "The Shining", Robert Altman's "Images", "Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles", and even "The Texas Chain Saw Massacre".

While some reviewers have asserted that the filmmakers have approached the material in a literary manner, the real narrative locus here is wholly visual, and the director presents a repetitious scattershot of images that make suggestions but demand the audience imagine the connective tissue themselves. There is less than a paragraph of dialogue throughout it, and the subtle visual nods to the island's historical background emerge perhaps more strongly than the character herself, rendering the film an immersive interpretive exercise for the audience that is engrossing but certainly not thrilling.

"Enys Men" unfurls itself slowly, beginning as a quiet meditation on a researcher's lonesome study of nature, before slowly descending into a nightmare world where the natural landscape, figments of the researcher's imagination and/or individuals from her past (including a young woman who obliquely appears alongside her, possibly a younger version of herself), and spectral figures connected to the island's history (miners, doomed mariners, and a priest) all collide into a perverse tapestry. Even milkmaids on a tin canister of dried milk in the kitchen come to life here.

While there is perhaps no tangible throughline in terms of narrative, I think the film succeeds as a twisted portrait of human isolation. As the researcher's rations and resources dwindle, nature and history begin to take over. Lichens grow on both the flowers she studies as well as on her body itself--the island's landscape, its ancient stone monolith, and the ghosts of its past, tighten their grip both mentally and physically. There's little relief and even less explanation, but an unshakeable ominous tone pervades from start to finish. It is certainly not a film that aims to traditionally entertain, but it is one to get lost in--or consumed by. 8/10.