Northfork

I finally made it to ‘Northfork’ last night, the thoroughly-sweet, patiently-spun, and beautifully-rendered third film from 25-year-old auteurs Mark and Michael Polish. If you’re someone who, say, believes there are angels in the atmosphere (I do), and right here with us on Earth (I do), and that the death of the American West is both fascinating and sad, well, skip the blockbusters, and head to your local art house.

Should you need more convincin’, Roger Ebert’s got my back (‘Brother Act In Big Sky Country’), as does the Great Falls Tribune (‘Stars At Ease On Montana Movie Set’).

Meanwhile, over at the Paper of Record (even if there is some plagerism, compositing and fictionalization goin’ on over there), the Travel section has a nice, light piece on working at the shore (‘Ah, To Be Young: Working All Day, Partying All Night’). I lived in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, the summer after high school graduation. I lived and worked at Funland, a family run amusement park right on the boardwalk. We worked 18 hours a day, six days a week, running rides like bumper cars and kiddy boats, as well as games like Wack-a-Mole and Frog Bog. After work we’d gather in the girls dorm with a few cold six packs and stay up all night playing drinking games. On my off days I would sprint back to Philadelphia to see my girlfriend. It was miserable, and it was terrific. And it was going on fifteen years ago.

And finally, over in the Style section (huh?), Fountains of Wayne is getting the kudos they deserve (‘Hot Off The Turnpike, A New Cool’). I’ll never top their lush pop landscape, but I’ll die tryin.