Firth plays Birkin, a veteran of the first World War. He remains haunted by the experience, bearing a psychological wound which shows through a stammer in his speech. He is journeying by train to the tiny Northern England village of Oxgodby, in Yorkshire, where he has been hired to help uncover and restore a painting in the nave of a local church. The pastor, Reverend Keach (Patrick Malahide), is not a fan of the project, as he fears the mural will distract from his sermons, but completing the restoration will result in a hefty donation from the estate of a local aristocrat, so he sternly but swiftly gets out of Birkin's way. With no money to speak of and the job paying very little, Birkin takes up residence in the church's bell tower, and slowly becomes acquainted with the other for-hire man on the grounds, James Moon (Branagh). Moon, hired by the same late aristocrat, is supposedly searching for the bones of one of his employer's distant relatives, but spends more time unearthing valuable pottery also buried in the area.

Rather than some sort of ideological conflict with the priest or Moon, the real struggle in Country is Birkin's battle with post-traumatic stress syndrome, which (aside from his nervous tics) manifests itself in a bitter outlook. Even before he arrives, he is moody and reclusive, hoping to slowly brush away at his mural in relative solitude. Keach is uncomfortable when Birkin arrives, but his cold shoulder is a blessing, especially given Birkin's resentment toward the churchgoing public. During one of Keach's sermons, Birkin peers down at the congregation from a gap in a railing, scowling at their supposed generosity when nobody offered him a place to stay and the church is open about having hired him because he was the cheapest. It is a testament to Firth's performance that none of Birkin's unhappiness comes off as self-pitying or self-aggrandizing. His anger at having had to endure the hell of battle feels justified, a feat even more impressive when one considers the film does not contain a single frame of actual combat. The only glimpse of the battlefield O'Connor shows is Birkin in the mud, crying out in silent agony, in what could easily be an emotionally symbolic dream rather than a memory.

In truth, Birkin is in the perfect place to heal. The kindness and warmth of Oxgodby almost becomes stronger in a ripple effect moving outward from the church, a perfect shelter from which he can slowly emerge. The children of a different pastor, Ellerbeck (Jim Carter) enter his sanctum with rabbit pie and a record player, then invite him for dinner with the family. In attending a nearby mass and taking a few meetings in Ellerbeck's place, Birkin's cynicism about the church is struck down by force. Meanwhile, on the grounds but in his own enclosure, there is Moon, who Birkin discovers is also a soldier carrying emotional baggage, including an inclination to sleep in a hole in the ground and a painful leg cramp. The details of Moon's last few weeks in service are handled with a delicate and compassionate touch. Finally, there is Alice (Richardson), a young woman who expresses an interest in the mural and spending time with Birkin. Alice is Keach's wife, and while there is a romantic energy between Birkin and Alice, their relationship is soothing, not salacious. Much like Firth's Birkin, Richardson makes Alice seem fragile, but in a more precious and valuable way, as if drifting in and out of his life is almost a spiritual or physical talent.

Throughout, Birkin dusts away at the painting, slowly trying to decipher the intentions of the artist and understanding the details of the painting. The visual metaphor of the restoration in relation to Birkin's healing process is obvious, but the meaning of the mural itself and the relationship it holds with the aristocrat is, like the film itself, quiet, but powerful. Although the film approaches dark subjects and a person's mental anguish, A Month in the Country is a surprisingly tender and heartfelt film, one that passes over the viewer like a breeze on a light summer day. Although the feeling is subtle and peaceful, the experience is revitalizing and satisfying.

The Blu-ray
A Month in the Country arrives on Blu-ray via Twilight Time with a new piece of artwork, depicting Birkin at a train station, bag slung over his shoulder (thanks to the sepia-and-black color scheme used here, at glance it might appear to be a woman in a frilly dress). Whether he's leaving or arriving is left up to the viewer to interpret. The back cover is their familiar template, with plenty of quotes surrounding a short summary and a single image from the film. Inside the case -- no longer the standard blue but now a clear transparent Viva Elite -- you will find the usual booklet featuring liner notes from film historian Julie Kirgo, as well as reverse sleeve art showing through on the inside.

The Video and Audio
Many of Twilight Time's releases have come from studios like Columbia, which has a vast library of films restored in 4K resolution thanks to Sony's stake in the Blu-ray format. That, paired with their boutique approach to Blu-ray releases, is enough to give Twilight Time a Criterion-esque reputation. It's not entirely undeserved, but it's worth remembering that Twilight Time, like Kino Lorber and other smaller labels which license films for release, are at the mercy of what is provided by the original studio. A Month in the Country is presented in a 1.78:1 (misidentified on the packaging as 1.85:1) 1080p AVC presentation that leaves quite a bit to be desired. Kirgo mentions in her essay that there was a period of time where no 35mm prints were known to exist, and the film was thought to be lost, before two prints were discovered, one with Warner Bros., and one in the Academy Archive in Los Angeles. Kirgo says the latter served as the basis for their disc, but it's hard to believe this is a film-based transfer, even one several generations removed from the camera negative. While a minimal amount of grain may be present, it is obscured by video noise and subtle vertical lines feel more in keeping with a high definition tape source than from 35mm film. Although colors are bright and vivid, fine detail is essentially non-existent, with faces and clothing often taking on smooth appearance akin to an oil painting, an effect only exacerbated by O'Connor's love of soft focus and hazy lighting (a couple of times, I found myself checking to make sure my glasses weren't smudged with something). Shallow contrast piles on top of that to limit depth significantly, and in some shots, a faint halo of distortion can be spied surrounding characters. The occasional compression artifact created by the noise is only the final insult. I have no idea about the history of Country on home video (here or elsewhere), and it wouldn't surprise me to know that this is the best the film has ever looked, but graded within the spectrum of HD transfers, this one comes up pretty short, with little in the way of actual detail or clarity gained by putting this film on a Blu-ray as opposed to a carefully compressed DVD.

Sound is a fairly no-frills, low-key DTS-HD Master Audio 1.0 soundtrack. Although it is clean and generally easy enough to understand, there is a tiny bit of muffling or tinniness to the elements at times. It's also a significant disappointment that the disc does not include any subtitles or captions. Such things should be mandatory on any disc released in 2015, but are especially missed on a film filled with accents and local dialects.

The Extras
Twilight Time has provided a new audio commentary, featuring staff members Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman. As Redman points out at the beginning of the track, A Month in the Country is a personal favorite of Kirgo's, and so it's no surprise that she leads the charge on this track, bursting with historical and contextual information about the cast, director, production, and author J.J. Carr and his novel. Redman gets plenty of thoughts in too, but often serves as more of a moderator, touching on subjects and then letting Kirgo really dive into them.

The disc is rounded out by the Twilight Time staples: an isolated score, presented in DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0, an interactive catalog of their releases, and the movie's original theatrical trailer. Note: the disc's menu has a glitch in it in the 2015 catalog. On a page with Lenny and Love and Death, the cursor disappears, preventing the user from progressing further, but pressing the "top menu" button will still work.

Conclusion
A Month in the Country is an impressive film, one that rewards viewers with patience and an appreciation for subtlety. The transfer acquired by Twilight Time seems like more of a compromise than the company may like to admit (albeit an understandable one), but it's good enough to appreciate the film, and comes armed with a passionate and informative commentary track. Recommended.