Not ground breaking but very, very nice.

While the British film landscape is certainly a diverse one, there’s been a very specific brand of cinematic Britishness (or, specifically, Englishness) exported wholesale for decades now. Whether the seemingly never-ending flow of Richard Curtis geniality, the wholesomeness of Paddington, or the period fluffiness of Downton Abbey, we’ve been hawking nice, cosy Englishness worldwide for quite some time.

Whether these are anywhere near a fair representation of Britain is a debate best left for another day, yet the results and box office dollars are hard to argue with. Much of the world, it seems, loves a cuddly, bumbling, impossibly well-mannered Brit and we’ve been more than happy to play into this for years. However, despite the undoubted successes of these efforts, their lack of bite is often glaring.

On the surface, a gentle, love-tinged story about an archaeological dig in idyllic rural Suffolk starring Carey Mulligan and Ralph Fiennes feels like Cosy English Cinema 101, and almost certainly the reason for Netflix picking the film up, but while there’s nothing inherently wrong with all of that, for The Dig to truly shine there must be something more substantial buried within.

In 1939 and at the cusp of WWII, Suffolk landowner Edith Pretty (Carey Mulligan) hires a self-taught archaeologist-excavator Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes) to tackle the large burial mounds at her rural estate in Sutton Hoo. As the dig quickly grows in scale, it’s clear that what lies beneath these mounds is of far greater significance than first thought, but with war approaching and the authorities breathing down their necks, Edith and Basil must push on with the dig, as the echoes of Britain’s past begin to resonate in the face of an uncertain future.

Adapted from John Preston’s novel of the same name, The Dig’s tale of archaeological discovery in the Suffolk countryside is not only true, but remains one of the defining British excavations of the 20th century. That said, for many viewers, the finer details of the story will be unknown, and while The Dig does a solid job of conveying its inherent – if low-stakes – drama, the plot is unlikely to leave a lasting impression.

It’s certainly not an easy job to make archaeology sexy – I think we probably learnt a long time ago that very few, if any, archaeologists go around carrying whips and having punch-ups with Nazis – yet The Dig does well to get us caring about the excavation, perhaps far more than it has any right to. Despite this, however, there’s no getting away from the fact that the plot alone isn’t enough to make things tick, so it’s something of a relief that there’s far more to The Dig than the dusty period flick it threatens.

Tinged with a remarkably understated pain, The Dig makes great use of the world orbiting its core characters, and it’s here that the film truly shines. With Edith and Basil at the very heart of everything, the film prods and probes the quiet triumph and tragedy buried deep within the Sutton Hoo dig, working best when it homes in on this duo, allowing their gentle, tentative relationship and the sorrow at its fringes to shine through.

Despite its cosy English trappings, the heavy sense of loss and tragedy that underpin the story ensure the film hits a little harder than first appearances suggest. Whether it’s Edith’s grief and increasingly debilitating illness, Basil’s quiet, melancholic defiance, or the impending doom of war, The Dig’s niceness is fortified by a thoroughly satisfying personal excavation of its key characters.

Steeped in fragility and a sweet, irresistible charm, Carey Mulligan and Ralph Fiennes both deliver reliably fine individual performances, however, it’s their undeniable chemistry that really hits the mark. Eschewing the usual romantic drama cliches, there’s a clear bond between Edith and Basil that goes beyond the usual will-they-won’t-they romance and into something far deeper, as Mulligan and Fiennes’ platonic connection holds the film together.

Things wobble, however, when the narrative shifts focus from its core pairing onto the extended cast and a plot that meanders a little too much for its own good. As the excavation escalates in scale and significance, the scope of the film and the size of the cast grow with it, and while this is understandable under the circumstances, the added characters and sub-plots cause a not insignificant loss of momentum.

As Johnny Flynn and Lily James enter the picture, nudging Mulligan and Fiennes to the side-lines somewhat, the film loses a large chunk of its impetus, as it struggles to find an adequate way to pad out its run time. Seemingly unconvinced that the core narrative and his two stars have the requisite vivacity and sexiness to carry the entire film, director Simon Stone tacks on a romantic side plot between Flynn and James that’s not only superfluous but underserves the talent involved.

Yet, as we enter the final act and the plot regains its focus, momentum is thankfully restored. While there’s no doubting the talent of Johnny Flynn and Lily James, and their charm is hard to deny, it comes as something of a relief when Edith and Basil become the focal point once again, as the drama of the excavation and the impending tragedies of both the war and Edith’s illness really bringing the film home.

Even as The Dig’s plot begins to meander, however, and the tacked-on love story slowly dilutes the narrative, the film’s looks are nothing short of jaw-dropping throughout. Set amidst the awe-inspiring splendour of the Suffolk countryside, the film doesn’t do anything flashy with its cinematography, yet it really doesn’t need to, as Simon Stone and DP Mike Eley keep it simple and play to the inherent majesty of their surroundings.

Whether bathed in golden sunlight, lashed with rain, or blanketed in thick fog, Stone and Eley make the most of The Dig’s setting, as the fields, big skies, waterways, and woodlands swiftly become key to the film’s heart and a huge part of its charm. Paired with Stefan Gregory’s beautifully stirring score, the landscape is very much a crucial member of the cast, conveying a grandeur that often dwarfs its characters and carrying the story’s emotions even as the plot wanders. Largely avoiding the usual English countryside cliches, Stone does a fine job of enveloping us in the film’s rural surroundings, injecting just the right level of quaint without completely burying us in it.

Full of low-key charm and an unexpected depth, The Dig makes the most of its star pairing and its stunning setting to offer a delightful story that resists the temptation to devolve into a mawkish hellscape at every turn. Underpinned by the talents and chemistry of Carey Mulligan and Ralph Fiennes, The Dig is a wistful gem that, despite a tacked on romantic sub-plot and its reluctance to get its hands too dirty, delivers a wry, astute, and heartfelt English period tale of gentle beauty and all-round niceness.

The Dig is available to stream on Netflix now.