The town of Northfork Montana is, literally, dammed. The year is 1955, and six men are set with the task of evacuating the last of the town's occupants before the area is flooded. The event is described by the government as "merely a tertiary inconvenience for new [hydroelectric] power." But images speak louder than words in Northfork, and the six evacuators approach their task as though pallbearers to the funeral of their town. Wearing identical suits and driving identical sedans, the men depart in pairs to convince the remaining townsfolk to leave their homes.

With the majority of the residents long gone, Northfork is instead populated with striking images: a farm house transformed into an ark, a cemetery emptied of its coffins, and preacher delivering a eulogy in a church which is missing its fourth wall. Beyond that missing wall is a grey and empty landscape which is both ominous and sorrowful: like a Terrence Malick film in the wintertime.

The six men drive through this dismal landscape two by two in order to deliver a pair of angel wings and a last chance for evacuation to the remaining residents. The townsfolk are unwelcoming and delightfully Lynchian. One house, seemingly vacant, is occupied by an unusual group of misfits who might be leftovers from a Lewis Carroll novel. They go by the names of Flower Hercules, Cup of Tea, Cod and Happy. Though they don't call themselves angels, they are looking for a "relative" called the unknown angel, and seek help in finding him from a dying boy.

Few clues are provided as to the meaning of the film. But after nearly a week of digesting, this is how I understand it: Northfork is about relocation as a metaphor for salvation. Someone who can't relocate/ be saved (the dying boy) must therefore be rescued by angels. Alternately, those who, by their own free will, won't relocate/ be saved, are given one last chance to accept salvation (wings) before becoming lost souls who are, literally, dammed.

Ah ha!

Regardless, the best way to view Northfork is to consider it as a 20th century parable. It is also the kind of film which will likely improve itself after a second viewing, and the gorgeous cinematography alone fully warrants this necessity.

Throughout the film I was struck by simple, poignant camera moves like the upside-down perspective of a child lying in the backseat of a car and tipping his head back to look out the window. The Polish Brothers (Twin Falls Idaho, Jackpot) skillfully create a world for their film and draw the audience in. There is no question that these filmmakers understand how to use images to tell a deeply original story. Unfortunately, they need to work on how they tell the story with words.

The number one problem with Northfork is the writing. First of all, the audience is not given enough information on how to interpret the film. The majority of filmgoers will see this film only once and without some kind of paradigm with which to interpret the film, some viewers may come away with nothing. Secondly, the writing is not as clever or insightful as the filmmakers might imagine it to be. Lines such as, "There are two kids of people: Chevy people and Ford people," ring profound only in the most hollow of minds. Lastly, moments of humor are handled incorrectly. The atmosphere of the film is such that laughter of any kind seems highly inappropriate. As a pair of men arrive at the front door of a house where the doormat is in disrepair, one of the men comments, "It seems they've worn out their welcome." The humor is so hokey and out of place it's more of an irritation than comic relief.

Nevertheless, the missteps in the screenplay are minor when compared to the rest of the film, which is well crafted. Nick Nolte is skillfully restrained and noble as the aging town priest, and James Woods delivers a serious performance almost on par with that of Mr. Lisbon in The Virgin Suicides.

The Polish Brothers clearly have a talent for filmmaking, but their novice may be misinterpreted as pretentiousness. Northfork will be best enjoyed by a movie-goer who is willing to give something back to the film intellectually and accept it for the grim little puzzle that it is.

-Megan A. Denny