Enys Men

In selected cinemas now

Mark Jenkin’s quaint Cornish folk tale has been received with open arms by critics since its release, and has certainly done well to receive an extended cinematic release, given its modest budget, unfussy setting, and little-known cast.

For these reasons, I really wanted to enjoy Enys Men. It’s always great to see independent and experimental cinema reach the masses, and the fact that the film is set in Cornwall (which has long been one of my favourite holiday destinations) only heightened its appeal.

Sadly, Jenkin’s pulpous film just didn’t resonate with me. Aside from its intriguing 16mm framing, it is uninteresting almost to the point of parody. Quite frankly, virtually nothing happens throughout the picture’s 96-minute runtime, with Jenkins electing to showcase his narrative by way of a series of disconnected shots that are supposedly intended to be unsettling, but ultimately just feel random and, at worst, pretentious.

Mary Woodvine does an admirably earnest job in a practically unspoken lead role, though her character’s slow descent into assumed madness only ever grasps at deeper concepts. Loneliness, memory, our relationship with the environment, and trauma are just some of the motifs that can be attributed to the story of Enys Men, but Jenkins’ lucid presentation means that none of them are ever thoroughly explored.  

Ultimately, I can’t help but feel that this would have worked better if some of the starker scenes had been divided up as part of an art installation, though such musings are of course the by-product of audience privilege.