A Field in England
Ben Wheatley
Initial release: July 5, 2013
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images c/o Filmgrab |
There’s something about making a mind-bending film in black and white: the lack of color seems to heighten the strangeness rather than dull it, because you’re already having to work your brain around the grey when the whole world’s in color. Ben Wheatley's A Field in England, a disturbing piece of psychedelia, works upon ground trod by The Seventh Seal, using a historical backdrop to muse on matters of perception and the occult.
A cowardly alchemist’s assistant seeks a rogue colleague amidst the English Civil War, aided by three rough men, two of them deserters. Spurred by the promise of an alehouse beyond a field, then men pull pull a rope found randomly in the field, at the end of which is the man the assistant is looking for — a man who has become an alchemist himself, and who forces the other three men to dig for buried treasure. Amidst all this is the ready consumption of mushrooms from the field and near constant profanity, the intensity of forced labor under the gun, and the cowardly, submissive assistant’s metamorphosis into a man who makes his own fate.
At
the beginning, the film warns of “flashing images and stroboscopic
sequences.” This is a hint that that this isn’t an ordinary film; other
scenes, such as multiple scenes of the characters all standing still
(and not just still frames, either!) in a tableau are more evidence. The
soundscape is superb, all rumbles and eerie tones (not unlike the
ringing after an artillery shell) with traditional music to cement the
setting, complementing well the stark, empty landscape, which seems to
be quite far from the raging battle just beyond the hedge. Indeed, it’s
that passage through the hedge into the titular field that seems to be
where the action turns from the tense intro into the film proper, almost
as if it were a border between something less obvious than just one
field and another — and that’s where things get weird. It
can be difficult to really discern what happens during the climax of
the film; certainly, the mushrooms are hallucinogenic, but how can we
determine what’s real and what’s deranged fantasy? What’s magic, and
what’s imagination? These themes of altered
perception and ambiguity of what we’re seeing play well with sometimes
deranged camera work, bizarre plot points (some rooted in English
folklore) and an overall demented vein to the way the plot spools out.
There’s something about mind-bending film in black and white: there’s always that vague sense of homage to The Twilight Zone,
but classic British horror cinema certainly stands honored too. It’s a
puzzling, strange, yet eminently quotable movie that leaves you
wondering.