“Northfork”

By David DiCerto
Catholic News Service

NEW YORK (CNS) -- Costumed angels and fedora-wearing government agents populate a fictitious 1950s' Montana town in the beautifully somber, surrealistic fantasy "Northfork" (Paramount Classics). Though lethargically paced and at times opaque, this third leg of the Polish brothers' heartland trilogy is a tapestry of hauntingly evocative visuals skillfully woven together as an elegiac meditation on faith and death.

From the opening frames of a coffin surfacing from under water, the tone of symbolism is set, tipping off viewers that the film will require more mental participation than the glut of check-your-brain-at-the-door popcorn fare holed up for the summer at multiplexes. The image is seen in the melancholy mind's eye of Walter O'Brien (James Woods), a state agent commissioned to evacuate the movie's titular town, which has been slated to be flooded in order to power a hydroelectric dam.

As with each of his fellow Evacuation Committee members, a platoon of monochrome men-in-black, he must successfully evacuate 65 households in order to qualify for the 1.5 acres of lakefront property promised by the state once the area is flooded. In order to meet this quota, the two-man teams must go door to door, convincing Northfork's stragglers, including a polygamist and religious zealot who lives in a flood-proof house built like Noah's ark, to leave their homes, employing whatever means necessary, be it cajoling or strong-arm tactics.

A second story line revolves around a terminally ill orphan, Irwin (Duel Farnes), abandoned to the care of a kindly priest, Father Harlan (Nick Nolte), when his adoptive parents fled town as part of the forced mass exodus. Bedridden and feverish, Irwin travels -- presumably in his dreams -- to a house on the outskirts of town inhabited by a quartet of theatrically attired angels searching for a missing comrade. The seraphic assembly includes a priggish patriarch, Cup of Tea (Robin Sachs); a maternal androgyne named Flower Hercules (Daryl Hannah); a mute cowboy (Ben Foster); and a bookworm with funky multilensed glasses (Anthony Edwards).

The cherubic Irwin, prompted by Father Harlan's loving assurances that he is "an angel of God" and sensing that no human parents will want such a sickly child, desperately tries to convince the ethereal homesteaders that he is the "lost" member of their flock, presenting as evidence the scars on his back -- the unfortunate result of having his wings amputated -- as evidence of his angelic origins.

The remainder of the fairy tale seesaws between the two competing story lines with the meandering fluidity of a dream. Drawing from a rich pedigree of such filmmakers as David Lynch, the Coen brothers and Wim Wenders, the drifting surrealistic tone of "Northfork" is at once both a strength and its most glaring weakness.

The simple story line, which serves as little more than an easel on which to hang the intoxicating visuals, is weighed down by the film's funereal ponderousness and, at times, pretentiousness, rendering parts of the movie incoherent and leaving some viewers scratching their heads. Such narrative obfuscation is evident in a foggy subplot concerning O'Brien debating whether to exhume his dead wife's remains from the local cemetery.

This being said, it is refreshing to see a movie of such original vision, especially when so much of the schlock churned out by Hollywood consists of stale effects-laden sequels and refried TV kitsch. Brothers Michael and Mark Polish use the screen as a canvas on which to paint their sober Big Sky Country vistas. The images, equal parts landscape and dreamscape, seem to owe more of their inspiration to Americana paintings than to any cinematic influence, unable to be confined by the screen.

Like German filmmaker Wenders' 1988 art-house opus "Wings of Desire," "Northfork" is saturated with seraphic symbolism. In addition to the foursome of heavenly hosts, O'Brien's troupe offers angel wings -- including certificates of authenticity -- as enticements for the townspeople to pack their bags. The evacuation team's black trench coats are adorned by tiny lapel pins in the shape of angel's wings. Characters' names also denote their deeper allegorical significance, as in the case of the young couple who contemplate adopting Irwin: Mr. and Mrs. Hope.

Nolte deserves special mention for his sympathetic portrayal as the haggard cleric. His restrained and nuanced performance full of soul-searching pathos is a welcome relief from his apoplectic rants in "The Hulk."

Like all good works of art, "Northfork" can be interpreted in several ways. One possible interpretation is that the film is a eulogy for the openness of the West and its expansive way of life -- with the stone structure of the hydroelectric plant serving as its tombstone. For Christians, it may be more interesting to see the film as an apt metaphor for the mystery of death. During a closing voiceover, Nolte's priest explains that he learned a valuable lesson from the dying boy, that of witness. Death, like life, is a journey. Our faith calls us to walk with others through life's full cycle, as Father Hanlan states, "at its coming in and at its going out." This act of solidarity helps us see death in a clearer light and helps us conquer the dread associated with it.

Due to brief sensuality and some mild profanity, the USCCB Office for Film & Broadcasting classification is A-II -- adults and adolescents. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is PG-13 -- parents are strongly cautioned. Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13.