Metacritic reviews

Fortunately, Harvest recounts this pre-historical fall from grace not as dry socio-economic history, but as a sort of universal myth.

One of those films whose plot and texture are entirely inseparable.

Harvest stands strong and tall, a work solid as an oak. Full of a sensual love of nature and a distinctive vibe, it’s tangy like a home-brewed ale.

This is pungent filmmaking which creates a world steeped in superstition, ritual and folk-magic.

Tsangari’s vigorous, yeasty period piece occasionally loses the thread of its sprawling ensemble narrative, but transfixes as a whole-sackcloth immersion into another time and place.

Harvest operates on the level of humanism and micro-history, conjuring the feeling it’s possible to inhabit a lost past––even for a little bit––as if it was a myth, before we made the crushing reality that eventually overtook our present and future.

Although made up of many mesmerizing moving parts, “Harvest” ends up as feeling less than the sum of these. There are sparks of what makes an Athina Rachel Tsangari film great within this impressionistic period fable, even if — unlike the fires that bookend the film — it never fully takes the blaze.

The film is a handsomely mounted production in which much of the filth feels stage-managed.

The film’s lack of character development might not appear so evident were it not in such stark contrast with all the other elements of “Harvest.”

The ploddingly unvaried pace and undirected, underpowered performances make this an exasperating experience: a directionless, shallow movie which seems bafflingly unconvincing and inauthentic at every turn.