‘Bucks Harbor’ review: Delicately-woven tapestry of life in rugged New England fishing community

Dir: Pete Muller. USA. 2026. 98mins

The fishing village of Bucks Harbor in northeast Maine is a hardy, wild place. Perched on the Atlantic coast, hemmed in by forest and ocean, and governed by the seasons, it’s rich hunting and lobster catching territory. Survival depends on the predominantly masculine traditions passed down from – almost exclusively – father to son. For his debut feature documentary, American photographer and visual artist Pete Muller weaves a surprisingly delicate tapestry of this rugged place, focusing on the experiences of a handful of residents to reveal undercurrents of humanity, humility and humour.

Undercurrents of humanity, humility and humour

Muller previously co-produced the Emmy Award-winning documentary The First Wave, about New York doctors during the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, and Bucks Harbor shares with that feature an eye for detail and a keen mastery of observational filmmaking. Muller has also worked as a photojournalist in Africa and the Middle East, exploring issues of masculinity, conflict and ecology, and combines those three themes to striking effect here. Having premiered in Berlin’s Panorama, where it won the prize of the ecumenical jury, Bucks Harbor next plays the True/False film festival, and should secure further festival berths and possible streamer play.

Muller spent five years documenting life in Bucks Harbor and, from that extensive footage, he and editor Noel Paul have crafted a film that doesn’t follow traditional narrative through-lines, but instead plays like a series of vignettes. The film homes in on four of the town’s male residents – but no names appear on screen, and we glean all information about them from their daily lives, their interactions with friends and family, and their occasional comments to camera.

Primary among them is the hugely personable Dave, a recovering drug addict who is still reeling over the death of his father 11 years before. Now the only man in his family – his fiercely feminist mother steals every scene she is in – Dave feels the pressure to provide, to prove himself, but often finds himself struggling and relying on foodbanks. Fiercely proud and patriotic, Dave is also a sensitive and empathetic realist, and is self-aware enough to draw links between the way he was raised – his parents, for example, were unable or unwilling to support his artistic endeavours – and the challenges he faces in adulthood.

This is a common theme here. Lobster-pot maker Mark speaks about his loving but fiercely traditional childhood and a creative spirit that remained well under wraps until he discovered the joys of dressing as a woman one Halloween, when he was in his late 40s. Now he entertains thousands of followers on TikTok, much to the delight of his now-supportive parents. The film also follows a father teaching his two young boys the tough craft of lobster fishing while trying to reconcile his own upbringing; and a consummate loner and recovering alcoholic who is struggling to reinvent himself.

Muller jumps between these men at will, with nothing in the way of chronological or narrative signposting, clearly intending his film to be a mosaic of snapshots of complicated lives. Stunning cinematography from Muller, Nathan Golon and Mark Unger captures the changing seasons and unpredictable weather, churning grey waters becoming blue skies, red autumn leaves turning to deep white snow. Long shots are meticulous and painterly in their composition, underscoring the opposing forces of beauty and hardship that shape this place.

Woven throughout are underwater sequences that foreground the region’s famous lobsters; unlike the action above the surface, these are calm, almost hypnotically languorous sequences. There’s no drama at these depths, the lobsters going about their business in the same way they have since the time of the dinosaurs, occasionally shedding their skin to be reborn anew. It’s perhaps a somewhat obvious metaphor for the experiences of the men on land, who are all attempting to forge identities beyond the hard exteriors they have been conditioned to develop. Still, Bucks Harbor proves a compelling, tender human study, and a testament to individual strength and community spirit.