For a medium that fundamentally operates in abstract representation, cinema has often struggled to function in a purely surrealist modality. In fact, the term surreal is often reductively thrown at films which are merely superficially weird or nonsensically absurd. It’s rare to find a film entirely, and successfully, operating in a surrealist mode. Lynch at his most effective? Probably. Jodorowsky in his prime? Definitely. Bunuel at his peak? Certainly!
Quickly turning into the UK’s most prolific and visionary filmmaker working today, and with his fourth film in as many years, Ben Wheatley has succeeded in making one of the most effective surrealist pieces of cinema to have been widely distributed in years. A Field in England is a magnificently obtuse cinematic experience that defiantly disorientates even the most jaded spectator.
The ostensible shell of a narrative follows several deserters from a battlefield during the civil war in 17th century England. A man of God named Whitehead (Reece Sheersmith) and two others stumble out of a chaotic battle only to wander through the titular fields amidst a smoky haze of hunger and exhaustion. The group soon come across a menacing figure named O’Neill (a wonderful Michael Smiley conspicuously costumed to resemble Vincent Price in Witchfinder General) who drags the group into a seemingly fruitless quest for buried gold.
This broad outline is the extent of any rational or literal understanding one can derive from the film as sequences slowly become more dreamlike or irrational as the story progresses. Wheatley quickly establishes his primary operating mode through a beautifully obscure sequence observing the characters literally pulling O’Neill into the narrative via a rope connected to an unseen off-screen source. Several other sequences highlight Wheatley’s significant skill in evoking a carnal sensation designed to completely bypass the conscious mind and shoot deep into the unconscious. A highlight is a bizarre pagan ritual between Whitehead and O’Neill that’s depicted entirely off-screen and punctuated by horrific screams culminating in Whitehead exiting the tent wearing a gut-wrenchingly disturbing look on his face.
The screenplay, collaboratively written with Wheatley’s wife Amy Jump, is peppered with flowery obscure dialogue that alternates between crude and pretentious while the luscious black and white photography all cumulatively signal the trademarks of an artist working with a singular, albeit frequently impenetrable, intention.
The film culminates in a montage reminiscent of the experimental work of artists like Stan Brakhage or Martin Arnold. As the film cuts between discordant images at a hyperfast, almost strobe-like speed, our eyes create new patterns and the dissociative function of the film is complete.
Wheatley has created a fascinatingly iconoclastic film in A Field in England. Its fusion of art cinema, surrealism, and pagan ritual is also punctuated with moments of extreme violence and toilet humour. It’s a visionary mash-up that is concerned with haptic sensation, affect and the in-body experience of the viewer. A Field in England seems to almost primarily be about the act of watching A Field In England. Sure, they’ll be plenty who will choose to dig into allegorical or symbolic interpretations but for me the film is primarily an intriguing temporal carnal experience, and a compelling one at that.
Rating: 4 stars out of 5
A Field in England
Director: Ben Wheatley
UK, 2013, 91 mins
Melbourne International Film Festival
www.miff.com.au
25 July – 11 August
Actors:
Director:
Format:
Country:
Release:
