Christopher Smith might just be one of the most underrated genre filmmakers still working today. From his 2004 urban slasher debut Creep to the fan-favorite mind-bending thriller Triangle (and even the criminally underseen Severance), the director has long established himself as one of the most consistently entertaining voices in the genre.

That’s why it’s so strange that Smith is rarely brought up during discussions about the most influential genre creators of the 2000s, especially now that indie horror with high-concept twists has become more popular among mainstream audiences. I found myself thinking about Smith’s tragic lack of recognition after revisiting what I believe to be his most underrated project, 2010’s historical horror-thriller Black Death.

I’d actually argue that this bleak little film is even more effective now than it was over a decade and a half ago, as its grimy mid-budget thrills are hard to come by in an industry now dominated by hastily produced streaming content. That’s why I’d like to invite my fellow horror fans to accompany me as we explore the flick’s production and how Smith turned it into a somber period piece from hell.

The film that would eventually become Black Death started out as a very different project meant to be produced in the UK and helmed by prolific TV director Geoffrey Sax. Written by Dario Poloni (who had previously penned MJ Bassett’s surprisingly entertaining survival flick Wilderness), this initial version of the story was far more supernaturally inclined, with the second half resembling a more traditional folk horror story than a grounded take on what living through the bubonic plague would actually have been like.

This would change once Smith took over the project and the shoot was rescheduled to take place in Germany, with the Berlin-based Egoli Tossell Films taking over production. Smith went on to rewrite large chunks of the script in order to change the story into something less literal after researching the nuances of the time period. Fascinated by the fundamentalist beliefs of the era, the director began to imagine what a period-accurate conflict between a knight and a necromancer might look like, with this idea leading Smith to the realization that the real terrors of the plague would only be diluted with the addition of familiar paranormal tropes and medieval wizardry.

Though Sean Bean was attached to the film from the very beginning (with his interest in the project helping the team to acquire funding), this updated take on the story would end up replacing established co-stars like Famke Janssen and Lena Headey due to budgetary issues when it became clear that the movie was headed in a darker and less easily-marketable direction. The flick was also one of Eddie Redmayne’s first forays into genre film, with the young actor undergoing an extensive research process in order to bring his medieval monk to life.

Black Death ended up sharing quite a few cast and crew members with the then-concurrent Game of Thrones TV adaptation. However, the on-location shoot in Blankenburg and Querfurt ended up making the movie feel like an appropriately grounded production in comparison, despite both stories featuring plenty of dark subversions of what audiences typically expect from sword and sorcery.

In the finished film, we follow Redmayne as the novice monk Osmund as he agrees to guide a dangerous mission led by the devout knight Ulric (Sean Bean). Ulric and his band of fellow warriors have been urged by the local bishop to investigate rumors of a remote village said to be protected from the devastating effects of the plague by the actions of a necromancer. During his travels with the group, Osmund has his faith tested as he slowly comes to terms with the true extent of the plague’s damage on both men’s bodies and their desperate souls.

The first time I watched Black Death was in the company of an uncle who had rented the movie expecting something more in line with the action-horror thrillers of the 2000s (such as Van Helsing and Constantine). Naturally, he was disappointed with how the film turned out to be an atmospheric character study where the spiritual implications of disease and religious conflict are far more dangerous than spell-slinging warlocks. I think a lot of folks felt that way back in the day, especially since Sean Bean’s casting may have unintentionally suggested some form of thematic connection between this film and epic fantasy narratives like The Lord of the Rings (or even the aforementioned Game of Thrones series).

In reality, Black Death is an unrepentant horror film where even the brief action set-pieces are shot in a way that’s meant to disturb viewers, not entertain them. From disgusting, practical gore effects to the morally complex nature of every single character, it’s clear that there are no obvious heroes or villains here. Hell, even the pagan “antagonists” are merely perpetuating the cycle of violence begun by the Christians who persecuted them in the first place – an idea explored to the extreme in the film’s divisive epilogue.

Black Death may not be as polished or historically accurate as a Robert Eggers endeavor, featuring common tropes and myths like witch-burnings and anachronistic armor/weapons, but it certainly nails the apocalyptic atmosphere of a period that must have really felt like the end of the world. This oppressive ambience is only enhanced by moody cinematography that takes full advantage of on-location shooting in ways that we rarely see in contemporary productions.

It’s also impossible not to think of COVID when characters express irrational paranoia about the infection, and the gruesome imagery involving diseased bodies and mass graves brings to mind just how vulnerable we are as a species – an idea that makes the characters’ callous acts of intolerance that much more terrifying.

While the film’s story is a bit heavy-handed in its symbolism and presentation, the mere fact that it respects the audience’s intelligence enough to allow us to decide for ourselves who (if anyone) was in the right more than makes up for any narrative blunders like cheesy dialogue and unnecessary narration. Even then, the cast appears to take their characters so seriously (just look at Eddie Redmayne’s silent transformation from naïve young man to jaded zealot) that you’ll rarely be taken out of the experience by iffy dialogue.

That’s why I think Black Death would have been more successful if it had been released a few years later. Modern audiences are more used to somber period pieces in the vein of The VVitch, and the movie’s understated terror would likely have been better appreciated in a cinematic landscape where horror is taken a little more seriously. That’s why I still recommend this one to fans of historical horror, so long as you go in expecting slow-burning tension and horrific moral dilemmas rather than zombies and epic duels.

Black Death is currently available to stream on Disney+, Hulu, Pluto TV, and Tubi.