The Bolex Renaissance: Mark Jenkin’s Analog Revolution in a Digital Age

In an era where the barrier to filmmaking has been dramatically lowered, with smartphones capable of producing cinematic-quality footage, director Mark Jenkin has carved a distinct path by embracing analog technology. His distinctive approach, particularly his reliance on a 1976 wind-up Bolex camera and 16mm film, has not only garnered critical acclaim but has also ignited a fervent interest among a new generation of filmmakers and cinephiles. Jenkin’s 2019 debut feature, Bait, a stark and captivating portrayal of a Cornish fishing village grappling with gentrification, became an instant cult classic. Its unconventional aesthetic, born from the limitations and unique texture of analog filmmaking, caught the attention of industry titans, notably Quentin Tarantino, who famously lauded Jenkin at the BAFTAs in early 2020, singling him out as "the Bait guy."

The impact of the Bolex camera extends beyond a mere stylistic choice; it has become intrinsically linked to Jenkin’s eerie, esoteric cinematic signature. The camera’s inherent constraint – its inability to record shots longer than 27 seconds before needing to be hand-cranked – dictates a unique visual language. Instead of relying on conventional coverage, Jenkin’s films are densely packed with purposeful close-ups and an almost palpable sense of spontaneity. This, combined with his deliberate decision to record sound entirely in post-production, creates a Lynchian disconnect between image and audio, imbuing his work with a dreamlike, often unsettling, quality. The juxtaposition of this vintage technique with modern elements, such as a MacBook appearing in Bait, serves as a potent reminder that Jenkin’s artistic vision is firmly rooted in the present, even as he draws inspiration from the past.

Jenkin’s observations about the audience reception to Bait reveal a surprising shift in cinematic engagement. "When I went out with Bait, I thought it was going to be queues of old people wanting to talk about the good, old days of shooting on film," Jenkin shared during an interview at Picturehouse Central. "But they weren’t there. It was young people with 35mm cameras. They’d come up to me afterwards and ask about Super 8 and 16mm." This trend was further evidenced by a chance encounter during the interview itself, where a budding filmmaker approached Jenkin for advice. "It’s always flattering when the younger generation, who are always going to be cooler than you, are interested in what you’re doing," Jenkin remarked. "Every day, we’re told cinema’s dead, but there’s a whole younger generation that gather on Letterboxd that studios and filmmakers can’t ignore anymore. That’s so exciting." This growing interest underscores a broader cultural movement away from algorithm-driven content consumption towards more curated and tactile artistic experiences.

The Hypnotic Unfolding of "Rose of Nevada"

Currently, Mark Jenkin is engaged in a nationwide Q&A tour for his latest film, Rose of Nevada. This hypnotic horror film also functions as a compelling time-travel melodrama, further cementing Jenkin’s reputation for genre-bending narratives. The tour, which began in April, has seen Jenkin travel extensively, with a recent stop in Liverpool preceding his London engagement, just hours before his departure for Manchester. At 50 years old, the Cornish filmmaker is a staunch advocate for the communal cinematic experience, a conviction underscored by his regular attendance at 35mm repertory screenings at BFI Southbank.

Rose of Nevada represents a significant evolution in Jenkin’s output. While still shot on the Bolex, the film embraces color, a departure from the monochromatic palette of Bait and Enys Men. Furthermore, it features prominent actors George MacKay and Callum Turner, lending a higher profile to the project. This combination of Jenkin’s unique directorial vision and the allure of established stars is expected to draw a broader audience.

The film’s narrative centers on Nick (MacKay), a struggling family man seen early in the film at a food bank, and Liam (Turner), who arrives in Cornwall jobless and homeless. The setting is a once-thriving fishing village that has clearly seen better days. This sense of decline is literalized with the spectral appearance of a ship long believed lost. Driven by an ill-advised curiosity, Nick and Liam board the vessel for a fishing trip, despite a stark warning—"GET OFF THE BOAT NOW"—engraved into the wood. Their journey takes an abrupt turn when they return to harbor, only to discover they have traveled back in time by three decades.

Unpacking the Thematic Layers

Jenkin, who serves as the sole writer, director, cinematographer, editor, and composer for his films, prefers to let the work speak for itself. However, he offers insights into his motivations, particularly regarding his avoidance of romanticizing the past. "There’s no better time to be alive in terms of standard of living, life expectancy, tolerance, and the acceptance of difference," he stated. "Obviously, there’s still so far to go. Austerity did so much damage. I wanted to illustrate that without it being a political statement."

This sentiment is poignantly reflected in the film’s depiction of the fishing village. When Nick and Liam travel back to 1993, the local fishing industry is once again flourishing, and the building that served as a food bank in the present day has been transformed into a bustling post office. Jenkin elaborates on the significance of this contrast: "Food banks are good and serve a purpose. But the normalization of food banks is bad. It’s fucking insane that we’re the sixth-biggest economy in the world, and people are relying on food banks. The film flags up that in some ways we’re going backwards." This statement highlights a critical socio-economic commentary woven into the fabric of the film, using the temporal displacement as a lens through which to examine contemporary societal issues.

The Actors’ Perspectives

The casting of George MacKay and Callum Turner proved pivotal for Rose of Nevada. MacKay, known for his nuanced portrayals of thoughtful and sensitive characters in films like The Beast and The End, brings a grounded emotional core to Nick. Turner, often tipped as a potential successor to the James Bond mantle, infuses Liam with a charismatic, almost roguish energy. Interestingly, Jenkin initially approached MacKay for the role of Liam.

"When I [eventually] met Mark, we didn’t talk about the film once," MacKay explained during a Zoom interview. "We talked about our lives. At the end of that, he said I’d be more right for Nick. And it felt right, because Nick behaves the way he does because he’s trying to do what’s best for his family. I haven’t had a role where that’s been at the character’s core before." This personal connection and understanding of the character’s motivations are crucial to MacKay’s performance.

MacKay, like Turner, was already an admirer of Jenkin’s previous works, Bait and Enys Men. His appreciation for the filmmaking process itself, believing it to be as significant as the final product, made him eager to engage with Jenkin’s unconventional methods. The Bolex camera’s limitations, which typically allowed actors only one or two takes, presented a unique challenge. Jenkin notes that MacKay approached this constraint with meticulous preparation, while Turner was more inclined to experiment and request additional takes.

"Three-take Turner!" MacKay quipped, referring to his co-star’s occasional requests for more attempts. "You develop a real trust in Mark. If he’s happy with the first take, you move on. The sparsity of the writing allows for multiple interpretations to be projected onto it, rather than for you to offer a number of definitive interpretations of a line. I knew that a level of neutrality to the delivery would leave it more open to a number of interpretations." MacKay also acknowledges the inherent political dimension of his character’s initial situation: "The film begins with my character coming into a foodbank. It’s set in a world that’s real. That in itself is a political statement: that’s where things are in some places in the UK."

The Power of Unexplained Artistry

Jenkin’s deliberate ambiguity in explaining his films echoes the approach of renowned director David Lynch. This shared philosophy on allowing audiences to interpret and engage with the work on their own terms is a recurring theme in discussions about Jenkin’s cinema. The conversation turned to the unsettling power of sound, a concept that Jenkin believes can surpass visual means in its ability to disturb an audience. He cited Lynch’s mastery of this technique, noting how dissonant or unnaturally layered soundscapes can create a profound sense of unease precisely because their source is not immediately apparent. "A jump scare is over in a second, and you laugh at yourself," Jenkin observed. "It’s almost impossible to create a visual that’s unsettling for a prolonged amount of time – because our brains make sense of it. But Lynch might have 30 tracks of audio that are naturalistic, and one’s playing backwards. If you don’t know why something’s not right, it’s unsettling."

Jenkin provided a concrete example from his own film Enys Men, where the incessant ticking of clocks in a cottage is consistently out of sync, creating a subliminal sense of temporal disorientation. He also recounted a near-completion stage of Rose of Nevada where Callum Turner’s dialogue was temporarily voiced by Jenkin himself. The moment Turner re-recorded his lines and they were seamlessly integrated into the film, Jenkin witnessed a profound shift. "Callum came in one day, did his dialogue, we dropped it in, and it changed the entire film. It changed George’s performance," Jenkin marvelled. "The reaction was, ‘People thought we recut it.’ I was like: ‘No, all we did was replace my voice with Callum’s.’ How the fuck does that happen? It’s supernatural. But that’s what cinema does. It’s the greatest art form we’ve ever invented, because it’s so keyed into how our minds and subconscious work. But it’s so sophisticated, I don’t understand how it works."

Jenkin views Lynch’s legacy, particularly with Twin Peaks, as a testament to the enduring power of unexplained narratives. He posits that Lynch’s refusal to offer definitive explanations ensures that his work will continue to resonate and be debated, rather than becoming static. "But now Twin Peaks will play forever because he didn’t explain it," Jenkin asserted. "He leaves us to work it out. That’s what I want to do with my films. A film falls to pieces if you explain the meaning. You kill it. If you don’t understand a film in the moment, it carries on once you leave the cinema." This philosophy underscores Jenkin’s commitment to creating films that are not merely consumed but experienced and contemplated long after the credits roll, fostering a lasting engagement with the audience.

Rose of Nevada is set for a theatrical release on April 24th, with further availability on BFI Blu-ray and BFI Player expected in the summer.