The release of Ben Wheatley’s new film AField in England has caused quite a stir in the blogosphere underground.
Unable to fund a proper, full scale PR attack Wheatley and his producer’s
decided on a unique distribution technique: the movie came out simultaneously
in the cinema, VOD (video on demand – iTunes etc), DVD and on television via
the British film channel Film4 (who also funded the production). It is a shrewd
marketing ploy, but self-consciously so – by acknowledging the gimmicky method
Wheatley utilises the attention that has surrounded individuality. A Field
in England has harnessed plenty of the right kind of social media attention
– respectable journalists et cetera. It is the latest development in the quest
to attract attention under the all-conquering mainstream social media, and a
way to commodify that interest.
Of course a strategy such as this needs a
memorable film to follow through on the concept. And Wheatley delivers on that
count: A Field in England is a richly disturbing exercise in cinematic
psychedelia, darkly surreal and incisively acted. It manages to strike at the
contemporary yet remunerate the English Civil War mental-ness it recreates. An
alchemist’s servant Whitehead (Reece Shearsmith) seeks out a rogue apprentice O’Neill
(Michael Smiley) in order to return him and the documents he stole to their
master. The latter’s soldier Cutler (Ryan Pope) coaxes a couple of other motley
men – one an idiot, the other a drunk – to find some treasure in a field. In
truth though the story is but a bi-product of this insight into cinematic
purpose, and thus could have taken place in any time period and made little
difference.
The English Civil War does however furnish
the film with sincere undertones of magic(k) and candid belief in petty
superstitions. It’s a pre-Enlightenment time still dogged by religious
fallacies and fear of the devil, but facilitated and intensified by copious
consummation of the magic mushrooms located on the field that O’Neill seeks his
treasure. There is neither analysis of the war’s politics nor much reference to
it, but that is deliberate. The idea seems to be that the human psyche transcends
the illusory splits of society – political boundaries are intangible and all
men have the same weaknesses. A Field also reveals the
duality between humanity and the nature we reside in. The bounties of nature –
grass, mushrooms – still affect the course of human development, both
individually and collectively. Even the title of the movie is an intertwinement
of that theme: the ‘field’ of the natural; ‘England’ as a notion and product of
human civilisation. But perhaps it might be best to reign back from the
philosophical rut this stream of consciousness is leading me down.
The film is phenomenally interesting, with
plenty of re-watch value; it is undoubtedly challenging though, particularly in respect to its photography. Shot in black and white with a penchant for the
bizarre, A Field is a difficult watch. Particularly the 10 minute psych-out
bit towards the end. It’s a kaleidoscopic montage of mirrored camera effects
and slow motion, soundtracked by jarringly atonal noise. The impact is
withering and fascinating, and remarkably efficient in conveying bewilderment. Wheatley has a talent for capturing that memorable image, the
moments that are symbolic of the tone or theme he is trying to confront: the
image of Whitehead gratuitously gorging himself on those mushrooms or the futile
pulling of the strange rope and the excruciating turning of the stump. And yet
it feels like this mercurial flair is employed just for its own artistic purpose
rather than for any great overriding scholarly statement, as if he’s just doing
it for a laugh. There is always a slightly tongue-in-cheek attitude to his
work, a very English approach.
