Northern Light

Northern Light is an observational documentary, but its narrative rings so true that it couldn't have been a better story had it been scripted. The film's ideas shine with a full range of subtly implied, and deeply felt emotions of ordinary Americans struggling to stay attached to their personal dreams. Though their dreams are fully their own, they are equally dreams that are thoroughly and generically American; that is, they are about winning. For these Americans living in Upper Peninsula Michigan, this means competitive snowmobile races, cheer leading, and beauty/body building contests. While competitive aspirations create the impetuses that generate individual and family hope, those aspirations are continually drawn thin by the ever present economic facts of life: unemployment, low pay, doctor's bills, and bodies weakening with age and the very wear and tear of trying so hard to win.

What makes this documentary particularly poignant are the wonderfully shot moments that capture the emotions implied in the lives of the movie's tremendously real people, and the evocative editing that punctuates the primary movements of bodies and vehicles with stationary images that capture the forces of the natural and economic environments that act as ballast against which they struggle. These feelings are even more hauntingly felt through the original score that is more percussive than melodic. Just as the actors press onward toward personal and familial meaning against a current of economic hardship, so also the score expresses a struggle toward melody against a heavier, percussive dominant theme.

Northern Light is a cinema verite documentary set in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. It's a slow paced, but powerful look into the lives of three snowmobile racers and their families. Snowmobile racing is the glue holding this loose narrative together, with everyone and everything revolving around the next big race: the Annual I-500 in Sault Ste. Marie.

The three racing junkies lead very different lives off the snow, but bring real passion to their sport. Walt is one of the primary racers, who loves the sport to a fault, and has difficulties making ends meet as a result. While one of his opponents, Isaac is a perfectionist type, with a strong religious background. At many points in the film the racers' stories branch out, and the camera follows their family members whose daily lives have little or nothing to do with racing. At certain points these narrative diversions get a little confusing, but the supporting characters help broaden the film, giving it more depth and humanity.

Northern Light feels slow, with long shots of snow covered highways, trees and starry night skies, but this works well in contrast with the action of the final race. These shots are gorgeous, and paint a beautiful, but also bitter portrait of life 'up north'. I would recommend this film for doc buffs interested in a real slice of life (on ice).

This would be a wonderful subject in the right hands. Unfortunately, it wasn't. The families are vaguely identified, their lives barely defined. Do we empathize with them simply because they live in an out-of-the-way location? The landscape is only hinted at as are their goals. Unblinking shots of trees do not convey a landscape. While it is an interesting concept to not include any voice-over or identifying graphics, this effort fails to support the film. It only muddles things. In addition, I found the filming style to be very lazy, not "experimental." Why linger on a shot of half of a person's head while someone else in the room is speaking? Is it "art" or did the film maker fall asleep? Then, after the big build up to the race, and the race itself, we are taken in a totally unexpected direction. And not a direction which is clever or fulfilling, just a different direction.