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And yet at the same time, the movie's characters are fascinating—particularly the scholar Whitehead (Reece Shearsmith), who holds up his meager book learning as a great depth of knowledge. Whitehead seems hopelessly in thrall to the necromancer, who uses him as a sort of divining rod to find the treasure, and whose "magic" is indistinguishable from the effects of the mushrooms that the others wolf down. And Wheatley's style is so original—at times almost indescribably so—that its blind alleys and excesses, too-muchness and too-littleness seem of a piece. There's something to be said for a film that plainly could not care less what anyone thinks of it. "A Field in England" is not timid or focus-grouped, and its grimy, gritty, often nasty aspects are part of a tradition that reaches way back to "The Canterbury Tales," a fact that might be easier to see if Wheatley's style weren't so aggressively avant-garde.
Added to which, there's context for the touches that at first seem random or overcooked. This is, after all, a movie in which half the story occurs while major characters are under the influence of hallucinogens, picturing their colleagues moving in super-slow motion or staring blankly at an ever-expanding hole in the sky where the sun once was.