When I asked a colleague if he had seen “the new Polish film,” a blank look washed over his face — he could not seem to recall recently seeing any movies made in Poland. When I told him I was actually referring to Northfork, the final installment of Michael and Mark Polish’s cinematic trilogy named after small American towns, we laughed (Twin Falls, Idaho — which I have not seen — was the first in the trilogy, followed by the unimpressive Jackpot, about karaoke).

The Polish Brothers certainly would have found the humor in our exchange, since they are known in the independent film world for their surreal meditations on life’s more weighty matters (not that there’s anything weighty about karaoke). Northfork — a rewarding serio-comic fairytale framed by a series of rich, gallery-worthy images — will surely be dissected, dismissed, interpreted and misinterpreted, all of which will no doubt please the identical-twin filmmakers immensely.

As conceived by the Polishes (both of whom write and produce their projects), Northfork’s slight story, set in 1955, concerns a town on the Montana Plains set to be flooded in two days in advance of the opening of a new hydroelectric plant. Its inhabitants have vacated, with the exception of a few stragglers — one of whom has an ark complete with two wives — who face vigorous arm-twisting by the identically dressed members of the Evacuation Committee (Peter Coyote, Mark Polish, James Woods and Jackpot’s Jon Gries among them). Bearing witness to this last-minute housecleaning is an oddball band of earthbound angels — Flower Hercules (Darryl Hannah, in a spiky black wig), double-amputee Happy (a barely recognizable Anthony Edwards), mute Cod (Ben Foster, lately of “Six Feet Under”) and Cup of Tea (Robin Sachs) — who are trying to determine if a sickly orphan, Irwin (Duel Farnes), is really the “unknown angel” they are searching for.

Northfork’s strengths lie not in its plot (interesting though it is), but in how director Michael Polish creates a sustained dream-like quality that makes it such a curiously compelling, even moving, experience. Ably assisted by a strong ensemble of actors (Woods, who associate-produced, and Nick Nolte, as Father Harlan, are especially good) and a gifted cinematographer (M. David Mullen’s work is the finest since Conrad L. Hall’s for Road to Perdition), the film is, in this critic’s opinion, a work of art, though some will be turned off by its spiritual psychobabble, measured pace and David Lynchesque deadpan humor (replete with double-meanings and bad puns like “there’s nothing fowl about these wings”).

I agree that the film is, at times, self-conscious, even silly, but such momentary lapses in no way diminish the power of the Polishes’ magical blend of droll comedy and quietly reflective ruminations on life, death and the pursuit of higher ground (in all forms). Northfork is a stark and subtly powerful work that pays handsome dividends for those who get the joke (so to speak) — or are at least willing to. It is a welcome reminder that good — no, great — films are still being made. Northfork starts July 25 at Landmark’s Hillcrest Cinemas. For tickets or more information, call (619) 299-2100.

Kyle Counts is film critic for the Gay and Lesbian Times.