Grief is a bitch.
There's something strange and glorious about Steven Adam Renkovish's latest indie effort The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne. While it very well could be that Renkovish made the mind-fu**ing decision to shoot the 29-minute dramatic short on Super 8, yes you read that right, that's only a piece of it.
Hey, listen. I'm going to admit this up front. The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne isn't a film for everyone. Renkovish knows this. Renkovish celebrates this. There are going to be some people who watch this unabashedly experimental effort and mumble to themselves "WTF did I just see?"
It's true. It's going to happen.
But, I'm telling you here. There's something strange and glorious about a filmmaker who is relentlessly unapologetic about going for the exact mood and the exact look and the exact tone that he wants even if everyone else in the world doesn't get it.
I mean, sure. He's human. He wants people to see The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne. However, more than "like" the film it's abundantly clear that Renkovish wants the people who need to see the film to find it.
And there are people who need to see the film.
The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne is set on Halloween night in what is obviously a small town. We meet Emily Jayne early on, played by longtime Renkovish collaborator Brittany Renee. We don't quite know the story yet, however, there's a strong sense of melancholy that practically chokes us right away and lets us know that we're in for an immersive, emotionally honest experience.
For those easily offended, and I'm guessing that's about 2/3 of Renkovish's home state of South Carolina, you should likely be aware that The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne both dabbles in the witchery sort and is queer-friendly. While these themes are evident, the heart of The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne is found in its poignant and desperate exploration of grief. It is clear that Emily and Annabel (Shelby Willis) were a loving couple in a small town that doesn't take kindly to it. This is beautifully, and somewhat humrously, captured by a brief but important cameo by Renkovish's own mother, Lorraine Renkovish, as the kind of neighbor you don't particularly want as your neighbor.
As has been true for most of Renkovish's cinematic efforts, 401 Rogers being a noteworthy exception, Brittany Renee is front-and-center and, as always, she delivers with a heartbreaking mix of grief-filled nostalgia and immense sadness. Acting is not her full-time gig, though when it comes to working with Renkovish Brittany Renee always delivers the goods.
It's not likely a coincidence that Emily Jayne is, in fact, the kind of neighbor you would want.
The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne is a low-budget effort, though Super 8 suits Renkovish's storytelling perfectly and I'm pretty sure this film wouldn't have the same impact had it been a big budget effort. Renkovish does a good majority of the production work here, though Kelly Ward's original score is practically a character unto itself and runs wondrously alongside Renkovish's storytelling. Renkovish's lensing feels like bathing in a sea of sorrow, and John Oates deserves major kudos for creating a sound design that works on a budget that would say it couldn't possibly work.
Over the years, Renkovish has become quite the indie/experimental filmmaker with a unique voice that delivers universal themes via deeply intimate storytelling. There's a myriad of ways The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne could go wrong, but it's so clearly borne out of Renkovish's own soulful being that he practically wills everything to go right.
Shelby Willis, another longtime Renkovish collaborator, does her best work with Renkovish to date in a role best left undescribed. It's to the credit of Renkovish that he gets the best out of his ensemble, a sign both talent and their trust in him as a filmmaker.
As an added bonus, watch for the delightful kiddos Hop and Maggie Roberts.
The Strange Disappearance of Emily Jayne is just getting started on its indie fest journey, and it should be a film that can easily find a home on the indie/experimental festival circuit and perhaps even the LGBTQ circuit should Renkovish decide to go that route. While it's a film that won't click for everyone, for those who've ever felt the desperation deep within grief and unsatisfied longing, this is a special film that deserves to be seen and one you will not easily forget.
Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic
