A Tunnel Through the Black Death

A haunting medieval odyssey carries villagers from the Black Death into a modern world they could never have imagined.

Some movies entertain you; a precious few thrust you into a different world and another mind. The Navigator: A Medieval Odyssey is one of the latter — a potent piece of cinematic surrealism.

It was directed by New Zealand writer/director Vincent Ward, in what I believe was only his second feature. I stumbled across it at Blockbuster another lifetime ago, during one of my binge-watching periods, with no idea what I was getting into when I hit play.

The film opens in black and white, set in a remote Cumbrian village in 14th-century England during the Black Death. The plague ravages the countryside, and the villagers are powerless in its path. Desperate for a way out, they turn to a young boy named Griffin, known for his visions. In one, he’s told they must plant the holy cross atop “the biggest church in all of Christendom” as an offering to God, to be spared.

My favorite scene was inspired by an experience of Ward’s: he was once stranded in the middle of a German autobahn, unable to cross to either side. In the film, one character finds himself in a similar predicament — but unlike Ward, he’s a 14th-century villager who sees demons closing in on him.

Ward does a brilliant job of awakening the villagers’ primitive fear in the film’s viewers. The difference is that now post-COVID we’ve had a little external practice.