Christopher Smith’s Black Death: no laughing matter

19 January 2011

Gerard Wood

Early on in Christopher Smith’s Black Death there are several moments when fans of Monty Python's The Holy Grail might be tempted to crack a smile. Both movies are set at a time when England is ravaged by plague ("Bring out your dead!") and infected with the sort of religious fervour and superstitious thinking that was instrumental in the murder of countless women accused of witchcraft ("A witch! A witch! Burn her! Burn her! Burn her!"). Both those quotes are from The Holy Grail and in context they're hilarious and I was instantly reminded of the scenes they're lifted from when watching Black Death, especially when we encounter a hysterical mob convinced they've found the witch responsible for inviting Death into their village.

Let me say that the temptation to crack a smile is fleeting and the memory of Terry Jones’ ludicrous knight-philosopher, Bedevere, explaining the logical way to identify a witch (they weigh the same as a duck) quickly fades as the horrific reality of the situation is rammed home with brutal force. There is nothing remotely humorous in Smith’s vision of a world ravaged by plague and infected with unreason.

Directed by Christopher Smith from an original screenplay by Dario Poloni, Black Death is set in 1348 as a pandemic spreads across Europe wiping out as much as 60% of the population. It is a time of cataclysmic upheaval, not only in the physical landscape as towns and villages are stripped of the living, but in the social and economic landscapes which are transformed by the monstrous loss of life.

With so much horror and death the psychological landscape of the living and of the dying has also undergone a radical transformation. Fear is the norm and for many there is a desperate need for answers and solace, both of which are provided by religion and the Church. In the absence of scientific understanding, religious fervour is perhaps a rational response to incomprehensible horror. But it is a response that has irrational consequences when superstition and ignorance lead to the murder of women falsely accused of witchcraft. Time and again we see this in Smith's movie: bolstered by faith and religious beliefs people always find “answers” wherever they look: a sign from God, the source of evil, the guilty witch, the obvious explanation for why some are untouched by the plague and others are not... The fact that these “answers” are misguided is a tragedy that too often leads to the sacrifice of innocents for the greater good.

Those familiar with Christopher Smith's output will know him as a director of horror (Triangle, Severance, Creep) and while there's much horror in Black Death this movie marks a departure for him. If you've only watched the trailer, you would be forgiven for thinking that Smith has crafted some kind of fantastical horror. The trailer promises much action and gore and a collision of faiths as Christian knights take on pagan magic and witchcraft. [WARNING - if you're squeamish, this trailer is not for you!]:

Smith more than delivers on the promise of gore and action, spurning CGI in favour of special effects and some of the most brutally realistic combat this side of Neil Marshall's Centurion. As with Marshall's Roman epic, the camera work and editing of scenes of combat are top-notch and while the action is brutal, the violence is not stylised or glorified nor is it gratuitous. Violence is an integral part of the story and fully justified in context (but yes, it is depicted with some genuine relish, I suspect!).

What may surprise some is that Smith also delivers a narrative and vision that is firmly grounded in a very grim and credible historical realism that elevates his movie above the simple pleasures of fantasy and horror.

The story follows Osmund (Eddie Redmayne), a novice monk with a powerful faith in God and equally passionate love of a woman, Avrill. His two loves are irreconcilable – he cannot both served God as a monk and love Avrill as a man, and his character, as we come to appreciate, is defined by such destructive forces: inner conflict and guilt.

When death spreads through their town and enters the monastery, Osmund tells Avrill to return to the relative sanctuary of their distant forest village. She reluctantly agrees but promises to wait for him for a week in the forest in the hope that he will join her. His vows, which he has already betrayed, won’t permit him to leave however. Confused and wracked by loss he prays for a sign from God and finds one in the arrival of the Bishop's envoy and knight, Ulrich (Sean Bean) looking for a guide to the very same region to which Avrill has returned. Word has reached the Bishop of a remote village untouched by the plague and it's rumoured that the villagers have turned from God and are in the sway of a necromancer who restores the dead to life. True or not it represents a threat to the authority of the Church and must be investigated and dealt with. Familiar with the region they wish to travel to, Osmund joins Ulrich and his band of mercenaries as a guide and they journey through a blighted landscape governed by lawlessness and the rule of superstition and unreason.

What they discover in the village is a world apart. The village is led by Hob (Tim McInnery) and a beautiful woman, Langiva (Carice van Houten), a healer and perhaps something more. It is a paradise of sorts, but if it is paradise, it is one without the Christian God. Untouched by the plague, Ulrich can only conclude that the village is somehow unholy: after all, all that is good and holy – his world – has been blighted. The ensuing collision of faiths threatens to destroy them all.

At the risk of making banal and meaningless comparisons Black Death has something of Robin Hardy's classic horror The Wicker Man, in which a devout Christian police officer is drawn into a world of Pagan beliefs he is unable to comprehend, and Nicholas Wending Refn's mind-bending and brutal Viking epic Valhalla Rising, with its troupe of Christian soldiers travelling into a pre-Christian landscape. The journey into the heart of darkness is obviously not an original theme but Smith has nonetheless crafted a compelling and remarkable film which skilfully builds an eerie atmosphere, winding up the tension as the Christian travellers head deeper into uncharted territory and the young protagonist, Osmund, has his world torn apart by the devastating revelations that await him.

Smith’s movie is not an attack on Christianity per se, in fact the village’s pagan (or at least non-Christian way) is presented no more favourably and Langiva maintains her hold over the people through similar psychological techniques as the Church. Religious faith is demonstrated to be a great strength, however it’s also shown that unquestioned beliefs and fanaticism can be exploited to achieve any horrific end.

[SPOILER ALERT]

Osmund returns to the monastery a man broken by his experiences and tormented by grief, guilt and hatred and in time he takes up the sword and becomes a soldier of God, hunting down witches. He has become so twisted however that he quite literally sees Langiva in other women. It’s a chilling metaphor for the idea that through blind faith and ignorance we find the answers we’re looking for wherever we look.

Much like Valhalla Rising, Black Death is as much a feast for the eyes as the mind with brutal and shocking images giving way to evocative landscapes and settings. Although Smith’s movie doesn't achieve the profundity of Refn's Viking epic (and let’s fact it, few recent movies do), it is far more accessible with its more linear narrative. Smith has also brought together a wealth of acting talent, with strong leads in Sean Bean, Carice van Houten and Eddie Redmayne. Bean’s Ulrich is a brutal and fanatical soldier of God, but writer Dario Poloni has crafted a more complicated character than Ulrich at first appears (his seemingly callous dispatching of a woman accused of witchcraft is a case in point when we learn his reasoning for the brutal action). Eddie Redmayne ably portrays a conflicted novitiate in love with God and a woman, tormented by guilt and ultimately twisted by hate and grief, and Carice van Houten is perfectly cast as the beautiful and utterly ruthless witch / necromancer / goddess Langiva. The strong lead is backed up by a superb supporting cast, notably David Warner (The Abbot), John Lynch (his performance as Wolfstan is a highlight), Tim McInnery (Hob) and Johnny Harris (Mold).

Highly recommended.

Related Articles

Merlin's second season raises the bar for the TV fantasy ser...
With the third season of Merlin come and gone in the UK and ...

Stunning new trailer for Game of Thrones...
If you aren't already excited by what has been unveiled of ...

The Eagle will fly in February 2011...
When we last wrote about Kevin MacDonald's The Eagle of the ...

Neil Marshall’s Centurion: it came, we saw, it conquered!...
You know there’s something rotten with the state of distribu...

Solomon Kane: the best fantasy adventure not coming to a cin...
Michael J. Bassett’s Solomon Kane may well be the best epic ...

Game of Thrones news, website and teaser...
Since writing about HBO's proposed fantasy series Game of Th...