In many respects, to create a genre-less film, unable to be categorised or labelled in any specific way, is of great commendation to the filmmaker. However in this instance, where Josephine Decker’s sophomore endeavour Thou Wast Mild and Lovely is concerned, it’s that very lack of direction and identity which proves to be this inventive director”s very undoing.

When Akin (Joe Swanberg) leaves his life behind to spend a summer working on a farm, he has something of a hostile relationship with the owner, Jeremiah (Robert Longstreet), while unsubtly displaying his feelings for the landlord’s daughter, Sarah (Sophie Traub). An elusive figure, Akin doesn’t speak much, but shares several lustful glances and affectations towards his new co-worker, all the while harbouring a secret marriage, with his wife (Kristin Slaysman) left back at home.

While the narrative leaves a lot to be desired, Decker has created an uncompromising, intense atmosphere that makes for a disquieting experience. What enhances this notion is the film’s setting, taking place solely on this one farm, adding to this sense of isolation and loneliness. There’s also an ineffable, deeply sensual undercurrent. Decker ensures such a tone is achieved with a degree of subtlety, and the sexual tension exists, predominantly, in the subtext. While tedious at times, the audience remain onside as we build up pensively towards a compelling finale, so while questioning the director’s motives at times, you remain on board simply to see how the final moments will play out.

With shades of Terrence Malick, David Lynch and even Lars von Trier, Thou Wast Mild and Lovely is undoubtedly an accomplished, poetic offering – though regrettably any such good work is undone thanks to the occasional, absurd sequence that takes you out of the story completely. There’s a contrived inclination to be experimental and transcendent and it backfires; such as the ridiculous moment we see the world from a cow’s point of view. Yeeeeeaahhh. Not for me.