The Other Side Of Hope (12A.)
Directed by Aki Kaurismäki.
Starring Sakari Kuosmanen, Sherwan Haji, Kati Outinen, Ville Virtanen, Tommi Korpela and Matti Onnismaa. 96 mins. Finnish with subtitles.
Underpinning all the I'm-not-racist-but post-referendum arguments about the problems of multiculturalism, was a yearning for the simpler times of the 50s. It was dull and drab, but at least then we were miserable on our own terms. Throughout his forty-year career Kaurismäki has forged a vision of Finland as a hermetically sealed society of dour, suicidally depressed alcoholics, chain smoking their way through life under the oppressive yoke of his straightfaced, deadpan humour
Now though the turmoil and hysteria of the wider world has broken its seal. At the start Khaled (Haji) emerges from the coal on a cargo ship arriving in Finland and tries to make a go of life in this new land. Elsewhere a salesman Wikström (Kuosmanen) is trying to start afresh, beginning with the most laconic walking-out-on-your-wife scene in all cinema, before making a move into service sector when he buys a tavern called The Golden Pint.
A Kaurismaki film about the refugee crisis felt like a drag but he turns out to be the ideal filmmaker to deal with it. It's an issue that provokes hysteria and overstatement on all sides (in the Twitter age every topic provokes hysteria and overstatement on all sides): Kaurismaki's calm, detached style, laying the situation out for you with almost childlike simplicity, feels like a voice of sanity. It isn't constantly prodding you for an emotional response; viewers are trusted to supply their own emotions.
It becomes a film about integration. Will the refugees submit to the dry constructs of Nordic deadpan, or can their retain their own identity? It works out about 50/50 I'd say. The Arabic performers are livelier than the home grown faces, but they are gradually working on becoming more stilted. At least in terms of his film making, the arrival of the outside world represents a breathe of fresh air. His style had become a rather dry little self parody, all those dull films about dull people played by actors who were forced not to emote. Now his work seems vital again, not shackled to morbid introspection.
Funnier too, with plenty of examples of his dry wit. Too funny perhaps in places: the part where he tries to convert The Golden Pint into a sushi bar is too broad, and doesn't sit with the rest of the film.
The film has compassion, but no sentiment. It may be humane on an individual basis, but the film's visual scheme suggests that people belong in their place. The film's larger irony is that everybody is looking to get out, everybody is trapped. Early on Wikström tries to persuade an old contact to bulk buy his remaining stock, but she tells him that she is about to retire, get out of Finland and live in the sun. The film rather peters out towards the end, but that is appropriate. Like its characters, it doesn't have anywhere to go.
Directed by Aki Kaurismäki.
Starring Sakari Kuosmanen, Sherwan Haji, Kati Outinen, Ville Virtanen, Tommi Korpela and Matti Onnismaa. 96 mins. Finnish with subtitles.
Underpinning all the I'm-not-racist-but post-referendum arguments about the problems of multiculturalism, was a yearning for the simpler times of the 50s. It was dull and drab, but at least then we were miserable on our own terms. Throughout his forty-year career Kaurismäki has forged a vision of Finland as a hermetically sealed society of dour, suicidally depressed alcoholics, chain smoking their way through life under the oppressive yoke of his straightfaced, deadpan humour
Now though the turmoil and hysteria of the wider world has broken its seal. At the start Khaled (Haji) emerges from the coal on a cargo ship arriving in Finland and tries to make a go of life in this new land. Elsewhere a salesman Wikström (Kuosmanen) is trying to start afresh, beginning with the most laconic walking-out-on-your-wife scene in all cinema, before making a move into service sector when he buys a tavern called The Golden Pint.
A Kaurismaki film about the refugee crisis felt like a drag but he turns out to be the ideal filmmaker to deal with it. It's an issue that provokes hysteria and overstatement on all sides (in the Twitter age every topic provokes hysteria and overstatement on all sides): Kaurismaki's calm, detached style, laying the situation out for you with almost childlike simplicity, feels like a voice of sanity. It isn't constantly prodding you for an emotional response; viewers are trusted to supply their own emotions.
It becomes a film about integration. Will the refugees submit to the dry constructs of Nordic deadpan, or can their retain their own identity? It works out about 50/50 I'd say. The Arabic performers are livelier than the home grown faces, but they are gradually working on becoming more stilted. At least in terms of his film making, the arrival of the outside world represents a breathe of fresh air. His style had become a rather dry little self parody, all those dull films about dull people played by actors who were forced not to emote. Now his work seems vital again, not shackled to morbid introspection.
Funnier too, with plenty of examples of his dry wit. Too funny perhaps in places: the part where he tries to convert The Golden Pint into a sushi bar is too broad, and doesn't sit with the rest of the film.
The film has compassion, but no sentiment. It may be humane on an individual basis, but the film's visual scheme suggests that people belong in their place. The film's larger irony is that everybody is looking to get out, everybody is trapped. Early on Wikström tries to persuade an old contact to bulk buy his remaining stock, but she tells him that she is about to retire, get out of Finland and live in the sun. The film rather peters out towards the end, but that is appropriate. Like its characters, it doesn't have anywhere to go.
