Northfolk
dir. Polish
Opens Fri Aug 1
Cinema 21
There is something wonderful happening in Northfork, something not easily pigeonholed. The final installment of the Polish Brothers’ indie trilogy–which began with the inspired Twin Falls, Idaho, then stumbled with the karaoke blunder Jackpot—Northfork is a challenging picture. It’s an exercise in magical realism and a rumination on death that makes you realize what is truly great about cinema.
Am I over-praising? Possibly, but even if Northfork is not entirely successful, its mystery and beauty can’t be denied. The story: In 1955, the small heartland of Northfork is about to disappear, a casualty of a newly constructed hydroelectric dam. In an attempt to move every resident out, an evacuation committee (made up of trenchcoated, fedora-capped men) has been assembled. These men make their way through the eerie and near-empty area, trying to coax the few remaining holdouts from their land. Meanwhile, a sickly orphan, confined to bed and afflicted with feverish dreams, lies under the care of a local pastor (Nick Nolte). The inhabitants of the boy’s dreams: a pack of mangy angels who may or may not be searching for him.
Filmed with little more than a gray palette, Northfork moves at a deliberate pace, holding your attention by only offering explanations when they are absolutely needed; the cards are kept close to chest here, which is a cinematic skill long on the rim of extinction. There are no easy answers in Northfork, but in a summer when the bulk of films are closer to a jar of Gerber baby food than intelligent adult flicks, a little respite is certainly in order. From the opening shot, of a dark lake that is curiously sprouting coffins from beneath its surface, the Polish Brothers have crafted a film that is gorgeous, confusing, and occasionally sad. A film that does what all the best films do: inspire argument.