Written and directed by Aki Kaurismäki
In Aki Kaurismäki’s Fallen Leaves, in which two people find each other after an obstacle course of a courtship, things are at their worst: he’s an alcoholic laborer, working himself into a helping of black lung, and his addiction’s got his life in a tailspin; she’s similarly employed on the margins, working odd jobs for criminals and corporate sticklers who are both exploitative in their own way.
She shares her single-bed bedroom with her couch, stove, and dining table, and he lives in a shack with three other men. On the radio, airwaves bring news of the ongoing war in Ukraine, human death toll numbers listed like day’s weather forecast.
On paper, this is bleak stuff, and you’d think you’re in for some Ken Loach-esque helping of social commentary lambasting the impossibility of partnership in late-stage capitalism. On screen, however, you’ll find a warm-hearted and charming romance, tender in its own offbeat way.
As a downbeat, bone-dry comedy, Fallen Leaves isn’t haha-funny, but it does put a smile on your face throughout. The awkward, off-beat mannerisms of everyone in Kaurismäki’s Helsinki makes for the best kind of people watching, from the dead-eyed patrons of a karaoke bar to ogre-like grunts who find their calling as supermarket security guards.
Alma Pöysti and Jussi Vatanen star as our lonely hearts, Ansa and Holappa. Both appear unassuming, almost beige on beige, and they’re for the most part interesting on their own. Holappa’s crescent moon of a body keeps a wistful head with brusque lips aloft, and Pöysti’s eyes take in the world in its entirety. He’s in a rowboat, angrily beating against crashing waves, and she’s a breakwater. There’s a stronger sex in Kaurismäki’s universe.
Their interplay is a slow seduction for the viewer, amusing at first, improbable to be sure, but there’s a slow winning-over, and by the end of the tidy 80 minutes it takes Kaurismäki to conclude, a wholesome satisfaction despite the dire straits.
Kaurismäki’s voice is unique, even alienating at first, but Fallen Leaves knows where home is, and at the hearth is a fulfilling love story unlike anything else that still tugs on familiar heartstrings.
Mikkel Frederiksen 