"I always knew the devil would be an Irishman Dont eat the mushrooms. If theres any takeaway from Ben Wheatleys maddening psychedelic head-trip A Field in England, its that. Every other possible gist or narrative implication is up for interpretation and then some. The sizzling British auteur, responsible already for three diverse and refreshing films, shifts gears from the relative accessibility of the droll but amusing Sightseers for his most obtuse and subjective film yet. More a study in mood and psychological headspace than an actual narrative, Wheatleys latest is a black and white period piece, set during the English Civil War, appropriately confined to the titular field, and eerily reminiscent of bygone folk freak-outs like Matthew Hopkins, The Blood on Satans Claw or some of the more demented work of Ken Russell. Although it starts in stark, stately tones with a rabble of war-deserters led by an obsessive alchemist named ONeil in search of buried treasure, it doesnt take long for Field to spiral into a mind-melting affair that more closely resembles the truly out-there passages of Russells Altered States than it does The Devils. Amongst this delusional, hapless lot, half of which have jumped battle for that quintessentially English quest for a pub, theres Whitehead, played by League of Gentlemens Reece Shearsmith, whos looking to reclaim papers that the shady ONeil nicked from his employer. Shearsmith, who channels all the manic derangement of his League personas, is the films standout performer, delivering a captivating and poignant turn as a fearful bookworm who transforms to near-biblical badass when it comes to time to do battle with evil. Of course, this is Wheatley at the helm here, and this excursion into a quiet, still, seemingly merry old field isnt easily dissected into questions of good vs. evil or, as the characters are wont to do, Heaven and Hell. Like the final, warped passages of Kill List, theres a very real possibility that all of these people might merely be figments of one or more characters delirium. Towards the finale, after the characters have ingested their fair share of magic mushrooms, its unclear which mindscape, exactly, is harboring all this chaos, with the very real possibility its the audience themselves, staring full-on at a blank screen and babbling like a wild fool. That strange, unmooring from conventional reality is all down to Wheatley, who has gone to great, painstaking lengths to make A Field in England the whirling, oft incomprehensible, fracas it eventually becomes. Theres a proximity to the hallucinatory that is uncomfortable and simultaneously alluring; Wheatleys camera keeps a sinister closeness with the visages of his actors, and there are times when I felt I was literally scaling the craggy, hell-bound features of Michael Smileys alchemist, and in one unfortunate instance, hurtling precariously close to the inspection of an infected penis. In some of the most audacious scenes, Shearsmith and the others are frozen and arranged in whacked-out tableaus that look like the work of some mad Dutch painter, and theres a long, unnervingand punishingacid trip of sorts that abandons all rational sense for pure, unfiltered sensory immersion. What sets Wheatleys picture apart from any number of similar experimental films or brooding horror movies is that it hides a simplistic but profound emotional identity that leaps to the fore every time the more traditional narrative elements collapse on themselves. With the aid of writer Amy Jump, Wheatley expresses the incidental camaraderie of this band with tones both poignant and haunting, accumulating precise period details and individual character tics that coalesce when the film heads into hotter, more menacing climates. Theres a delving into English folklore and history that offers up several different ways to interpret the events in context, but the power of the film isnt dependent upon understanding it. Wheatley is undoubtedly indulging his artistic fancies here, but he doesnt allow that to become a license for frivolous navel gazing. Those who take the time to study the roots underneath this Field will find it built upon strong, scholastic foundations. If you are inclined towards such trips of cinematic fancy, youll likely love A Field in England. Others will find it more challenging, but because of Wheatleys careful and tenacious approach to the material, theres a good chance they too will eventually come along for the ride. The release approach, which has the movie debuting on television, in theaters, home video, and VOD all at the same time feels less like a marketing strategy and the antics of an arcane, college filmmaker who leaves copies of his work all over campus, in hopes that everyone might stumble upon and watch it, leaving the burden of digesting it in their hands. Whether you like it or not depends, but no one can argue that Wheatley has dulled his ambitions or stepped away from whats made him one of the most interesting voices out there right now.