Do you know where they no longer wonder, "What would happen if you stuffed Microcosmos and Godfrey Reggio's Qatsi trilogy into a burlap sack and swung 'em around like a lasso"?  Hungary – that's where.  György Pálfi saw fit to satisfy their curiosity. The writer-director's first full-length feature is Hukkle, a 75-minute, dialogue-free peek at the routine (and, hopefully, slightly less routine) goings-on of a tiny Hungarian village.

The daring and unusual Hukkle, which is pronounced "WHO-kel" and is the Hungarian equivalent of the word "hiccup," has a lot of fun showing us various extremes in both filmmaking techniques and in the activity of its setting.  We see the bustle of both ancient (sheep herding) and modern (textile mill) economy.  We see long shots where Pálfi's camera slowly pans across his subjects from a distance, while others are taken from so close up, you might wish you were sitting in the back row (especially the shot showcasing the giant, bouncing pig testicles).  Some bits are in slow motion, and some are sped up to the point where you can see plants grow.

Pálfi also shows us the cycle of life via both the food chain (man eats the fish that ate the frog) and in a much more agricultural sense (wheat is harvested and becomes the flour added to a delicious chicken casserole after spinning through a packaging facility).  That's cool.  But did I mention Hukkle is also a murder-mystery?  And a damn nifty one at that.  One you may need to see a second time to grasp it all.  If you momentarily take your eyes off the screen, like to ask your date if they think the close-up of the pig balls was absolutely necessary, you might miss one of Pálfi's subtle clues.  But even if you don't get one of them, Hukkle is still perfectly enjoyable and interesting seen solely as a documentary.

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