Some say that ‘The Reaping’ is a substandard horror film starring Hilary Swank. I say they are liars who have not even seen the film. I have definitely seen the film, I think, and I am pretty sure it is about a man who has to reap a big field of corn, and who falls in love with his delicious employer, played by Julie Christie. Here is my review:
Gabriel Oak wiped his greasy wrinkled brow with the hem of an ale-stained smock. “Oi ’ad been reapen at these ’ere corrn earrs since Whitsuntide last. Oi ahm toirred of this bahk-breaken laberrrr”. “Here,” said Bathsheba, the comely shepherdess who had lately inherited the Winslow-Porkwind estate, “have a sausage”. Gabriel furtively fingered the bulging wurst. “Whoi thahnkyou Ma’am” said Gabriel, and flicked the cylindrical pig nugget into his own hairy mouth. Wow! Gazoinks! It was a magic sausage. Gabriel’s old, beaten, West Country swede-sack of a body hummed with new vigour. Whoosk! Brrriinnngg! Gabriel felt like a spicy young stag in the heat of the pumping season. Like a crazy egg-whisk, Gabriel reaped up and down the field at a stupendous rate. His scythe was a maelstrom of metal magic. His smock was a hempen whirligig. Within half an hour the whole field was reaped, and Gabriel’s work was done. “Now moi Bahhthsheba,” he said “Oi’ve got a mahgic sausage forrr you”.
This is a sensual and passionate film that tickles the seat of Eros like a wiggling and intrusive ear of corn. It exposes the beating red heart of the English countryside, like some kind of gigantic cardiovascular surgeon who has inexplicably mistaken a huge landmass for a human patient. It takes us out of the entropic conurbations and Brutalist urban hives where we all, alas, live, and lets us stroll about in a windy rural Eden of melancholy swains and melting maids. It is a weekend vacation of a film that lasts an hour and a half. It is a two-dimensional eye holiday. It is less of a feast for the eyes and more of a film for the mouth. Whenever you look up, thar shall it be. And whenever it looks up, thar shall you be. What more do you want out of a film?