It's all so familiar: The shabby, old worn interiors, the far from picturesque scenery, those slightly patina-covers images with their dirty soft colors, the slowness, those long shots which are hardly more than stills, even the hairdos. Not only do Aki Kaurismäki's films have a very distinctive look and feel, they all have this quality of watching something that is not quite there. Nostalgia is the wrong word, but his films and more so his characters have fallen out of time. They are creatures of the past, but the present they end up in is not quite the present we know either. There is a timeless quality or rather a different sense of time in the slow movements, the museum-like atmosphere, the silence. More often than not Kaurismäki's characters are not exactly talkers. So it is no surprise that Le Havre looks a lot like Helsinki but there sure is a lot more talking going on.
At the end of the day, Le Havre both is and is not a typical Kaurismäki. It is his most upbeat and optimistic film to date. Gone is most of his trademark melancholia, the despair many of his protagonists have to fight and sometimes succumb to. On the other hand, his films have never been as cynical, hopeless or pessimistic as the occasional viewer may think. On the contrary, underlying his work has always been a basic belief in the goodness of humankind - at least the underprivileged part of it, those on the outskirts of society. And there always has been a fairy-tale quality in many of his films. Le Havre can be regarded as the culmination of both: a truly optimistic fairy-tale, a story about goodness which well may be too good to be true. But maybe it is not.
André Wilms reprises his role from Kaurismäki's 1992 film La Vie de Bohème, however, Marcel, the unsuccessful writer, has turned into a shoe cleaner - a profession that belongs to a different time, too. One day he finds an African boy who escaped when the police found the container in which he and dozens of others tried to get to London. He takes him in and eventually gets him to London. Meanwhile, Marcel's wife (the wonderfully dignified sad angel Kati Outinen) is diagnosed with a fatal sickness which she refuses to tell Marcel about. Don't be surprised though, if a miracle is in the making here, too.
This may be a run-down, shabby world but it is inhabited by the best kind of people one could imagine. And they're not flat characters, but full-blooded sinners with exceptionally good hearts. This is, after all, a fairy tale with a fairy tale ending but it is also more - a celebration of the human spirit, of goodness in the face of adversity, a beautiful vision of what the world could be if we all tried a little harder to do the right thing.
At the same time, Kaurismäki never loses sight of the evil humans do to each other. TV excerpts and a relentless police hunt highlight the plights of immigrants in today's France and elsewhere. if there is a message here it is that each of us must start in their own lives to do good, only then do we have a chance to make this place we call earth a little better. It is a simple message but told like this it is hard to escape its grip. And who ever said that answers cannot be simple sometimes?
Kaurismäki creates beautiful as well as memorable images, mostly stills such as the one in the harbour with the boy in the front and Marcel in the background. An image of longing and also of togetherness. The most intense scene occurs when the container is opened and the camera goes from face to face. All turns quiet, a choking silence that is hardly bearable. And eyes who tell stories that could fill books.
Not all is dead serious though, there is a playful element to this film. Kaurismäki starts it with a wonderfully cliché noir scene and ends it in n equally cheesy melodrama. Don't take me too seriously, we might hear him say, I'm just throwing some ideas at you. Catch them if you like.
http://stagescreen.wordpress.com/
At the end of the day, Le Havre both is and is not a typical Kaurismäki. It is his most upbeat and optimistic film to date. Gone is most of his trademark melancholia, the despair many of his protagonists have to fight and sometimes succumb to. On the other hand, his films have never been as cynical, hopeless or pessimistic as the occasional viewer may think. On the contrary, underlying his work has always been a basic belief in the goodness of humankind - at least the underprivileged part of it, those on the outskirts of society. And there always has been a fairy-tale quality in many of his films. Le Havre can be regarded as the culmination of both: a truly optimistic fairy-tale, a story about goodness which well may be too good to be true. But maybe it is not.
André Wilms reprises his role from Kaurismäki's 1992 film La Vie de Bohème, however, Marcel, the unsuccessful writer, has turned into a shoe cleaner - a profession that belongs to a different time, too. One day he finds an African boy who escaped when the police found the container in which he and dozens of others tried to get to London. He takes him in and eventually gets him to London. Meanwhile, Marcel's wife (the wonderfully dignified sad angel Kati Outinen) is diagnosed with a fatal sickness which she refuses to tell Marcel about. Don't be surprised though, if a miracle is in the making here, too.
This may be a run-down, shabby world but it is inhabited by the best kind of people one could imagine. And they're not flat characters, but full-blooded sinners with exceptionally good hearts. This is, after all, a fairy tale with a fairy tale ending but it is also more - a celebration of the human spirit, of goodness in the face of adversity, a beautiful vision of what the world could be if we all tried a little harder to do the right thing.
At the same time, Kaurismäki never loses sight of the evil humans do to each other. TV excerpts and a relentless police hunt highlight the plights of immigrants in today's France and elsewhere. if there is a message here it is that each of us must start in their own lives to do good, only then do we have a chance to make this place we call earth a little better. It is a simple message but told like this it is hard to escape its grip. And who ever said that answers cannot be simple sometimes?
Kaurismäki creates beautiful as well as memorable images, mostly stills such as the one in the harbour with the boy in the front and Marcel in the background. An image of longing and also of togetherness. The most intense scene occurs when the container is opened and the camera goes from face to face. All turns quiet, a choking silence that is hardly bearable. And eyes who tell stories that could fill books.
Not all is dead serious though, there is a playful element to this film. Kaurismäki starts it with a wonderfully cliché noir scene and ends it in n equally cheesy melodrama. Don't take me too seriously, we might hear him say, I'm just throwing some ideas at you. Catch them if you like.
http://stagescreen.wordpress.com/