’Rose: A Love Story’ Review: Dir. Jennifer Sheridan (2020) [LFF]

Vampires have been around in movies almost as long as there have been movies. Whilst initially keeping to Bram Stoker’s iconic Count Dracula over the years, there have been countless iterations of the vampire genre, with many trying to put their own stamp on the relentlessly popular screen monster. The latest filmmaker to do just that is Jennifer Sheridan, and her feature debut, Rose: A Love Story, offers a truly unique interpretation. 

Rose (Sophie Rundle) and her husband Sam (Matt Stokoe) have relocated to the Welsh wilderness. They live a simple existence in their rustic cabin, Sam spending his days hunting rabbits and checking that their home is fully protected from intruders, whilst Rose works on a new novel on her trusty typewriter. The reason for their self-imposed isolation, and their relocation, is that Rose is sick with a very peculiar illness, one that can only be sated with blood. Afraid of what she might do around other people, their cabin is the perfect place to keep everybody safe, that is until a young woman, Amber (Olive Gray), is found injured on their property and they have no choice but to take her in. Tensions rise and as Sam and Rose’s regimented existence begins to crumble, all three find themselves in very real danger.

Filmed in Llanwrtyd Wells, Rose captures the Welsh countryside beautifully, with sweeping shots of trees, highlighting the foreboding surroundings in which Sam and Rose live. These shots are especially stunning when shot at dusk, adding an almost otherworldly edge to the visuals. Within the walls of their dwelling there’s a nice juxtaposition of rural and aged, against futuristic and almost science fiction. The bedroom and kitchen are just as you would expect to see in a cabin in the woods, but the pair have added a room lit entirely with ultraviolet light that seems out of place with the rest of the house’s aesthetic. This room plays a key part within the vampiric portion of the narrative, acting as Sam’s only safe space, but it is also gorgeous to look at. On screen is a blend of blue and purple hues that is beautiful, and contrasts perfectly with Rose’s red-lit perimeter. 

Rose is, at its core, a love story. The whole film is punctuated and propelled by Rose and Sam’s relationship. Everything that they are doing seems to be compelled by the desire to make the most out of what time they have left together before Rose’s illness fully takes hold. It’s a scenario that many will be able to relate to; Sheridan opting to tell it from within the parameters of a monster movie, makes the stakes that much higher. 

Written by the lead, Matt Stokoe, who is also engaged to co-star and fellow lead, Sophie Rundle, in real-life, Rose efficiently captures that all consuming nature of love. Sam is a man who will go to almost insane lengths in order to be with and protect the woman he loves. Again, it’s something that we can all relate to, whether it be love of a partner, child or family member, we can identify with that drive to keep those we hold dear, safe. It’s not just Sam that is working hard though, Rose has to live with a constant struggle to not hurt her husband as she battles the monster within. This aspect of their dynamic works as an effective allegory for those relationships that are marred by addiction or other destructive behaviours. Addiction has an equally destructive effect on those around the sufferer, and when on the path to recovery, the fear of disappointing those that are supporting them is often a major pressure point. That angle is fully exploited here to wring maximum tension and suspense. 

The real-life status of Stokoe and Rundle’s relationship spills onto screen and Rose and Sam are as real an on-screen couple as we’ve seen. Their interactions are that of a couple who have been together and married for a number of years, there’s an easy air of comfort about the pair, and the audience will instantly click with them. Even their little fights and spats come across as genuine; the casting of an actual couple really has paid off here. Their relationship dynamic aside, their performances are note perfect. Both Stokoe and Rundle have to access some dark places to fully convey their character’s internal plights, and both articulate those feelings superbly. 

The vampiric elements of the narrative are revealed in a deliberately measured fashion. The story unravels slowly, merely hinting at what is hiding under the surface tension, Sheridan purposely keeps the audience guessing as to the true nature and extent of Rose’s affliction. This patience is rewarded and her interpretation of the mythology is inspired, smart, and oddly realistic. Rose: A Love Story is almost certainly the best thing to happen to vampire movies in decades.