Carson Robison sang it, farming is not for the faint-hearted. "The cow's gone dry and the hens won't lay, troubles pile up day by day. Grief and misery, pains and woes, debts and taxes, and so it goes."
There are parts of the world where farm output is measured in thousands of litres per week, but these rain-soaked acres in England ain't it. The flood of a few months ago made things a lot worse, but was this a viable dairying unit in the first place? Get rid of those cows, cut in some PVC field drainage with geotextile. Barley is used to make alcoholic beverages, muesli contains lots of oats.
Agriculture, emotional attachment, strained relationships and mental health issues - maybe they used to go together, but this combination was coming to rely increasingly on subsidies from the European Union. Is "The Levelling" about farming, or is it about a dysfunctional family who live on a farm? The technology doesn't seem to be much advanced on what was available in the 1930s. In this twenty-first century the cold-blooded business of converting soil fertility and sunshine into milk solids and butterfat entails zapping barcodes on ear-tags, uploading iPad data into laptops, and responding to endless on-line demands from government departments for information. And taxes.
In this film, family is everything, but when members of a family fall out, they're quite likely never to speak to each other again. We're simply expected to accept this dynamic, like it's a raw Scandinavian saga. It's something to do with the unforgiving land, and the malicious weather.
Aubrey the father (David Troughton) hands over the farm to his son to manage. Surely a poisoned chalice. Then the son kills himself. Clover (Ellie Kendrick) is about to complete her university qualifications in veterinary science, but she has to come back - to sort stuff out? Too many things don't make enough sense. The viewer is expected to fill in causes and effects. A cryptic crossword with ambiguous clues.
I hope "The Levelling" doesn't put young Britishers off farming. But you gotta love the land. Love it enough to compensate for the fact that the land does not love you. The land would rather be covered in forest, with squirrels and badgers.
