For the first half-hour of Northfork—the third film from Mark and Michael Polish (Twin Falls, Idaho)—I was convinced the movie would end up as a surprising last-minute entry into my list of the very best films of 2003. Moody and bleak and studied, that first 30 minutes had all the elements of a deeply satisfying film: lovingly introduced characters, a strangely handsome setting full of symbolic portent, and gorgeous sepia cinematography that turned each frame into a work of art. Unfortunately, after this hugely promising start, Northfork plateaus into an admittedly beautiful but static exercise in hollow symbolism.

The year is 1955, and the small Montana town of Northfork is about to be consumed by water—quite biblically—thanks to the construction of a new hydroelectric dam. The town is in the midst of an evacuation, and as we understand in the opening shots, the local cemetery is no exception. When we first meet stoic Walter O'Brien (James Woods), he is considering the unpleasant task of digging up his wife's coffin for relocation. Walter is one of a six-member team (which includes his son) charged with helping some evacuation holdouts come to their senses and get out of Northfork before the inevitable flood drowns the town. They wander this bleak ghost town in their black suits and hats, in their black Fords, like door-to-door preachers. It's a fascinating setup, no doubt, rich with potential.

However, there's another essential plotline running through Northfork, and it involves a dying orphan, Irwin (Duel Farnes), who may or may not be an angel. Caring for the sickly little boy is Northfork's brooding preacher, Father Harlan (Nick Nolte), who's prone to murmuring almost unintelligibly. Intertwined with these two characters is the possible existence of angels, who occupy one of the town's deserted houses. Are they really there? Or are they the product of someone's imagination? Either way, they're an odd assemblage of personalities that somehow don't integrate well with the rest of the film. There's the mother-figure Flower Hercules (Daryl Hannah), the wooden-handed and many-spectacled Happy (Anthony Edwards), the British and haughty Cup of Tea (Robin Sachs), and strangely mute C.O.D. (Ben Foster), who will remind you of Owen Wilson in his Tenenbaums cowboy garb. To me, these characters are the film's weak link, never fleshed out enough to be interesting as characters, and never connected sufficiently to the rest of the film to work as potent symbols. They're just…there…and every moment they're onscreen, you wish that you could be watching Walter O'Brien's story open up emotionally—but that never really happens, either.

Northfork is a film that values its look and its symbolism more than its characters and its story. And some people are into that kind of narrative-bereft film. I admit to finding the film beautiful to look at. The cinematography, in which nearly all color has been bleached out, is absolutely perfect for the film's tone and subject. Look at those monochrome landscapes! Look at those black-clad figures standing silent under hard, cold skies! Magnificent! But there's not much more to Northfork than its imagery.

This film should be brimming with emotion, but it's oddly emotionless. Even though it features a dying orphan, a dying town, many displaced individuals, and a husband still mourning a dead wife, none of these characters truly comes alive with any kind of resonance. Perhaps it's because of the coldness of the production, the emotional distance created by the sepia sense of antiquity. It's like looking into one of those old-time photographs: Those photos always hold stoic, unsmiling individuals—perhaps even family members—but it's nearly impossible to relate to them because they seem so far away in time.

Paramount presents Northfork in a terrific and accurate anamorphic-widescreen transfer of the film's original 2.35:1 theatrical presentation. As mentioned, the monochromatic look of Northfork is one of its strongest attributes, and the transfer faithfully recreates that look for the home. Colors are intentionally washed out, to the point of seeming black-and-white. Flesh tones are far from accurate, but that's deliberate. Detail is more than adequate, reaching into backgrounds. Digital artifacting is practically nil, but I noticed only the slightest evident of edge halos. I really had to look for them. Blacks are appropriately deep.

The disc offers a perfectly adequate Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack. Northfork is a mostly quiet film, full of dialog (often whispered by that famous mumbler, Nick Nolte), and this soundtrack delivers the front-end good quite effectively. Dialog is clear and accurate, if a little on the quiet side. (Damn Nolte.) Stereo separation is generous, but you'll hear little activity in the rears. However, keep an ear out for one rather startling front-to-back effect toward the end, involving the sound of an aircraft.

Northfork's extras are extremely informative, particularly the Commentary by Director/Writer Michael Polish & Writer/Actor Mark Polish. Although it's very difficult to tell them apart—they each speak with a soft, monotonous voice—they talk at extraordinary length about their intentions for the film, covering symbolism, plot points, and character subtleties. When you finish your first viewing of Northfork, you undoubtedly will have questions about the film's meaning, so this commentary is incredibly enlightening—perhaps too enlightening! If you'd rather that the film's finer points were left inscrutable, you would do well to avoid this track.

Bare Knuckle Filmmaking: The Construction of Northfork is a series of short featurettes that make up a terrific 37-minute documentary about the making of the film. (You can choose to watch the seven pieces separately, or you can select Play All.) Peter Coyote provides narration and begins each piece with a quote from scriptures, but these featurettes also take a fly-on-the-wall approach, combined with occasional interviews. It's interesting to note that Northfork had practically no budget—and even that never really came to pass. When I learned that, I gained a new appreciation for the film, which looks like quite accomplished for a no-budget film. There are many other fascinating anecdotes, and some hilarious on-set antics, in this documentary. It's well worth watching.

Next is a Photo Gallery of about 40 images, most of which are beautiful black-and-white photographs that capture the spirit of the film.

24 Frame News Segment: Northfork is a 5-minute Sundance Channel featurette that follows the Polish brothers on a roadtrip to their hometown, where they hold a screening of Northfork.

You also get the film's Theatrical Trailer in nonanamorphic widescreen, and Previews for And Now Ladies and Gentlemen, The Italian Job, and Mostly Martha.

Northfork is worth at least a rental. It's a stunner to behold, visually. But there's just not quite enough going on at its emotional center. You're left feeling empty when it ends, despite the sadness it wants to convey. That being said, the DVD's supplements are top-notch and will definitely add to your understanding of a rather inscrutable film.