Film Review - Fallen Leaves
Images courtesy of Palace Films.
At only 81 minutes, Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki’s newest film Fallen Leaves is an exercise in modesty. From that uniquely merciful runtime, to its scope, to the decided lack of glamour in any part of the film, this is a rare love story which finds allure in its small scale. Our lovers are Ansa (Alma Pöysti) and Holappa (Jussi Vatanen): the former a sedate bachelorette who listens to depressing Ukraine war reports on her radio, and the latter an alcoholic surrounded by older, lonely men who seem to represent his future. Both are cogs in the machine of the Finnish blue-collar industry.
As we witness Ansa and Holappa’s low-paying gigs and bleak nights, the mood of bottom-rung capitalism comes to be matched by the film’s pitch-black comedy. Kaurismäki’s humour is direct, rueful, wry: multiple of Ansa and Holappa’s bosses are indistinguishable moustachioed middle-aged Finns in leather jackets. One is arrested on narcotics charges only a scene after he hires Ansa to wash dishes in his dilapidated pub. Another such man briefly seems like he might adopt a dog Ansa has been caring for – but no. “I’ve already got six. Plus the kids. And the wife.”
Everyone is just getting by, ugly realities aside: the opening shot of gnarly butchered meat on a checkout line feels poised for a ‘meat grinder’ metaphor. Both Ansa and Holappa appear too disaffected to let the bitter tedium get to them, but their serendipitous incursions into each other’s lives bring excitement – cracks of anticipation appear in their stoic veneers. It’s oddly charming to watch Kaurismäki’s vision of almost adolescent nerves before a dinner date, but you can’t look down on these people. The film doesn’t either.
What Fallen Leaves manages to conjure, instead, is a completely unique combination of pathos and oddball humour. These taciturn romantic leads don’t do a lot of emoting themselves, but watching the film you may even find yourself projecting a bit of romanticism onto them. You pity Holappa and his drinking on the job(s), when Ansa is fired from a supermarket for taking home expired food, you grin as she deals a witty verbal blow to the security guard who rats her out. Helsinki is an appropriately fascinating setting, too, for this unconventional love story: alternatingly brutalist and cosmopolitan; trams go by, the proceedings are regularly soundtracked to the crooning voice of Finnish singer Olavi Virta.
Indeed, there’s enough in Kaurismäki’s choices here that though their faces perhaps betray little but fatigue, we know that Ansa and Holappa have much more to be found in their hearts. World cinema can bring us a film like this: a tiny love story, from a country you may never visit, dressed up like an anti-capitalist screed. In 81 minutes, you could scarcely hope to travel further.
Fallen Leaves is screening in cinemas from Thursday the 15th of February. For tickets and more info, click here.