A singular British talent, Andrew K枚tting's second feature after the award-winning "Gallivant" is a challenging, unconventional work. Having expressed a desire to get to the "spunk and bones" of rural communities, K枚tting certainly pulls no punches - effectively capturing the dirt, toil, and festering insularity of life down on the farm.
Shot entirely on location in Cumbria and the Yorkshire Dales, "This Filthy Earth" tells the tragic tale of two sisters, Francine (Palmer) and Kath (newcomer Randall). Together with Kath's daughter Etta (Etta K枚tting, the director's niece), they tirelessly work the land bequeathed them by their parents.
The primitive, swaggering Buto (Attwooll) has designs on their realm, and brutishly proposes marriage to Kath in order to get it. Meanwhile, Lek (Tchili), a stranger and hired hand on a neighboring farm, takes a shine to Francine - much to the consternation of the suspicious villagers who ostracise him, labelling him a "darky". When nature takes its toll, the superstitious locals - led by the cantankerous meddler Armandine (Clough) - look for a scapegoat, focusing their blame and hatred on Lek.
The film - shot largely on digital video - is a feast for the senses. And despite the overriding visual grit and claustrophobia (courtesy of David Burnand's impressive sound design), there's also a tremendous lyricism at work. This is most evident in the beauteous and timeless summer harvest sequences.
A number of the supporting performances are somewhat wayward, though, and K枚tting and co-writer Sean Lock's use of metaphor and religious allegory strikes a duff note or two. These reservations aside, "This Filthy Earth" is still enervating, passionate, and original film-making of the kind all too rarely produced in Britain.