FALL OF MAN is a sun-sick grotesque comedy about a man who thinks the yard still belongs to him.

On a blistering Virginia afternoon, a hungover slob dozes on a collapsing porch, beer in one hand, plastic fly swat in the other. A mosquito lands. He swats. He misses. That miss starts a revenge chain that drops from human scale into a forest-floor microcosmos: a lizard in a leaf speedboat, a shrew in a twig helicopter, three Tufted Titmice in homemade aviator helmets flying a bomber built from sticks and feathers. Their payload is bird droppings. The man is too late.

Shot in grimy early-1970s 35mm language — heavy grain, dirty Technicolor, Dutch angles, unstable handheld — the film keeps the animals anatomically real and the humor deliberately rude. It is built for adults and for kids who can take a mean fairy tale. The argument is simple. When men go lazy, nature does not wait. It organizes. It attacks. Then it eats the victor too.

Written, directed and produced by Erkki Kirjalainen.