Stream It Or Skip It: ‘In the Earth’ on VOD, a Crazy COVID Horror-Thriller That’s Ben Wheatley’s Return to Form

In the Earth is now on VOD, ripe for a 12 a.m. pot-cookie screening. Or maybe the pot cookies will only make it more uncomfortable? Results may vary, I guess. Anyway, the movie is another in Brit director Ben Wheatley’s increasingly diverse filmography, from wild thriller Kill List to sci-fi dud High Rise to 2020’s ill-advised Hitchcock remake Rebecca. Notably, In the Earth is the filmmaker’s official COVID movie, written and filmed over 15 days in Aug., 2020 — and yes, it’s about the pandemic, sort of, because he takes the concept significantly further than other films of this ilk. If I make it sound enticing, well, that’s intentional.

IN THE EARTH: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: There’s a scene in where Martin (Joel Fry) frantically scrambles through the woods in the dark, crippled and bleeding and pursued by a killer, and when he finds his colleague Dr. Wendle (Hayley Squires), she makes him swab his nose before she helps him. And he doesn’t even question it or protest. Such is the reality of In the Earth, which is set sometime after “the third wave,” whatever that means in this context, not that it really matters. This is how Martin got in this precarious situation: He’s a scientist who studies things, whatever they may be, not that it really matters, assigned to hike two days into the forest, wherever it may be, not that it really matters, to deliver some gear to Dr. Wendle, who’s researching stuff, wherever it may be, not that that really matters, either.

See, this film is more about a mysterious ethereal woodland terror than details, which is just fine, trust me. There’s a presumably ancient stone monolith in the woods with a hole carved into it, and the first shot peers through said hole as if everything that happens in the movie occurs via this warped perspective. That’s one way to explain it, I think. Anyway, Martin’s guide through the vast greenery is Alma (Ellora Torchia), a resourceful park ranger who tells him on the eve of their trip about Parnag Fegg, a legend about a creepy forest witch or spirit or presence or something that’s just a superstition ha ha ha ha ha, nothing to worry about really. Really. Nothing to see here through the monolith-hole, move along, move along.

So the two tromp through the woods and Martin huffs and puffs because he lied about keeping in shape during lockdown, and apparently has been gorging on crisps and Downton Abbey. They camp for the first night and Martin looks a little bothered by the crazy animal noises outside his tent, and you would, too. On the second night, he’s clobbered awake but also back to sleep and awakens upon the morn to find their camp ransacked and Alma unconscious. He stirs her and they realize their radio has been smashed and their shoes have been stolen. They tenderfoot through the woods and Martin gashes his sole — not “soul,” that’ll get damaged later — on a sharp rock and we get a good shot of the gory flesh-flap. She finds him a stick to use as a crutch and they continue along until solace arrives in the form of a fellow named Zach (Reece Shearsmith), who lives alone in the woods in a little encampment of tarps. He seems quite nice, actually, since he stitches up Martin’s oozing foot and gives them something to eat, it’s just some stuff he foraged, not like Pop Tarts or something, as well as some delicious forest tea he brewed. And they drink it, boy do they drink it. Sure seemed like a good idea at the time.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: See if you follow this line of logic: In the Earth has a Werner Herzogian let’s-shoot-in-the-woods-for-a-while-and-see-what-happens intuitive vibe meets neo-horror like Midsommar meets an Annihilation psych-trip into a heart of darkness, which of course was inspired by Apocalypse Now.

Performance Worth Watching: Squires hits the perfect loony notes as the character who apologizes for her demeanor because she hasn’t talked to anyone for months and seems mostly OK at first but shows subtle signs that she’s lost her marbles.

Memorable Dialogue: “You have very special flesh, Martin,” says Dr. Wendle, and not in a pleasures-of-the-flesh kind of way, but more of a crawling-flesh kind of way.

Sex and Skin: See “memorable dialogue” above, which is just a way of saying there is none.

Our Take: Isolation has a way of driving a person mad, doesn’t it? (And the fungal spores don’t help.) Among the handful of coronavirus movies that have emerged in the past few months to remind us of doggedly omnipresent things that are still happening, In the Earth is the most creative and effective extrapolation of the collective psychological human state, whether we’re a little mentally and/or physically vulnerable, ruthlessly pragmatic about pandemic procedures, falling down loony conspiratorial rabbit holes or some combination of the above. Some of the red herrings Wheatley wildly scatters are on-the-nose plainspoken and others are impressionistically allegorical — insert politics here, perhaps at your own risk — which seems to be entirely the point. He’s narratively flailing beneath a large umbrella of frustratingly vague and shifting “rules” for our existence, and if that sounds like I’m being an apologist on his behalf, well, that’s also intentional.

This is a long way of saying we should Just Go With It. The movie might make sense if you want to retroactively read into its various provocations and piece together an interpretation, but it also makes sense for it not to make sense, to simply be a visually tempestuous expression of bewilderment. The characters who’ve lost themselves due to boredom or prolonged seclusion or too much proximity with the same people (or any combination etc. etc.) are, of course, extremities, people at the ragged and desperate ends of sanity. Most of us aren’t there yet, but sometimes it seems alarmingly close, doesn’t it?

Wheatley’s loose, haphazard writing exists in odd concert with his tense, brutal direction, spiked with scads of close-up gore, disorienting strobing lights and passages of experimental psychedelia. Slow zooms and pans create eerie atmosphere to match Clint Mansell’s ’80s-derived retro-synth score — two oft-overused techniques that nonetheless work well here. Taking into account the twig-effigies and old books full of old-gods-demand-sacrifice-type myths, you’ll be tempted to bandy about the folk-horror tag, but that’s also relevant, functional and somewhat amusing within the context of nature-is-taking-over pandemic hyperbole; there’s crazy-talk dialogue about a brainlike structure of roots beneath the ground and trees “talking” and responding to aural stimuli, as if Mama Earth is conspiring to reclaim the planet with its own brand of biological warfare. Or maybe that’s just the madness taking root, and the only way out is to go in, you gotta laugh to keep from crying, that kind of thing. Interpret as you may, or don’t.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Regardless, In the Earth is riveting, suspenseful, challenging, outrageous, messy, troubling, troublesome, gross, inspired, eccentric, extraordinary, electrifying horror, and feels strangely essential.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Where to watch In the Earth