Showing posts with label Oona Airola. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oona Airola. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

2024 Top Ten List #10 The Missile (Ohjus)



 













Director Miia Tervo











THE MISSILE (Ohjus)                      A-                                                                                    Finland  Estonia  (114 mi)  2024  ‘Scope  d: Miia Tervo

Matti Nevala stood in the snow, looking sorrowfully at his melancholy tractor.                            —Esko, The Lapland News editor, hilariously reads aloud to Niina the lame introduction to her first story

What starts out as a zany comedy quickly turns into something else entirely, plunging into a more complex, in-depth examination of dysfunctional relationships and the havoc they wreak, as the abuse of domestic violence is beautifully interwoven into a tale of Finland’s subordinate relationship with Russia, as in each case bullying is the significant factor, requiring a radical shift to overcome an inequitable power dynamic that is emotionally and psychologically damaging.  Led by a phenomenal performance by Oona Airola as Niina, a fragile and insecure woman who transforms herself from a meek, easy to push around single mother of two children whose opinion matters to no one, to a confident, well-informed journalist who suddenly becomes an expert on the dangers of nuclear proliferation, refusing to be pushed aside by authorities as she continues to probe into matters of a government cover-up of mammoth proportions.  Part of what works so well is that she is such a tender, warm-hearted person, so to see her violently brutalized in such grotesque fashion is extremely affecting to viewers, adding an underlying dimension to this historical saga of Cold War political posturing and maneuvering, asking whether it’s possible to fully comprehend the danger lurking under the surface.  In some ways, this potentially disastrous international missile crisis bears a resemblance to Kubrick’s theater-of-the-absurd characterization in DR. STRANGELOVE OR:  HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE THE BOMB (1964), perhaps the ultimate in Cold War satires.  Born and raised in the Finnish Lapland, writer/director Miia Tervo studied film at the Turku Arts Academy before completing her degree in documentary filmmaking at the Helsinki University of Art and Design.  Tervo’s adept storytelling weaves a seamless connection between the past and present, finding ways of defusing decades of national anxiety with a mix of melancholy and deadpan humor, offering a profound exploration of how historical dynamics continue to influence contemporary politics, as this beautifully directed film offers an unglamorous depiction of Scandinavian banality, where alcohol and cigarettes are everywhere, balancing outrageous humor with the in-depth complexities of the characters, accentuating the eccentricities of local personalities with the seriousness in the overall turn of dramatic events, with Niina continually finding herself in ludicrous situations, as authorities blatantly refuse to acknowledge the dire predicament they face.  Plunging viewers into a world of everpresent ice and snow may remind viewers of that sarcastically irreverent tone of the Coen brother’s Fargo (1996).  What starts out as a pleasant family outing, with Niina chopping down a small tree with her two children in tow, frolicking in the wintry snow of an immense forest, quickly turns into a disaster, as the cart carrying the tree comes unhitched, careening down a hill and crashing through a storefront window of a local business establishment in town, The Lapland News.  Apologizing profusely to the proprietor, local newspaper publisher Esko (Hannu-Pekka Björkman), Niina has no money to pay for the extensive damage, so she offers her services, willing to work to pay off her debt.  Initially given minor assignments, staying out of everyone’s way, like searching through the archives for material, she’s surprised to discover a general lack of seriousness in their coverage, where gossip or offbeat human interest stories with a local flair dominate what they print, where their biggest story was about a sock falling into an ice fishing hole, as according to Esko, “Nothing ever happens here.” 

This absurdist dramatic comedy is based on the real-life incident in 1984 of a Soviet SS-N-3 Shaddock surface-to-air missile straying from the Barents Sea, violating both Norwegian and Finnish air space before crashing into Lake Inari, or Inarijärvi, the largest lake in Sápmi, a sparsely populated area located in the northern part of Finnish Lapland (speaking their own dialect), some 150 miles north of the Arctic Circle, (retrieval of soviet missile which landed in finnish waters 28 ...).  While driving to her sister’s wedding, a thunderous sound can be heard off in the distance echoing through the skies, disturbing the quiet of the forest, with radio reports quickly revealing that a missile was fired into Finland from the Soviet Union, which becomes the backdrop of the film.  While Niina wants to pursue this story, aware of potential ominous ramifications, as it might have been carrying a nuclear warhead, where the damage to the pristine environment could be disastrous, Esko has other ideas, as he doesn’t want to upset the locals with such depressing talk.  Despite her limited knowledge as a reporter, Niina throws herself into the story anyway, refusing to accept the military’s explanation that this is a matter of no consequence and nothing to worry about, mocking her interest as simply misguided, rudely dismissing her as a woman while subjecting her to sexist discrimination, where even her family has a hard time taking her seriously, too self-absorbed to give the matter any thought, routinely accepting the word of authorities, believing she’s out of her league.  With her abusive ex-husband Tapio (Tommi Eronen) in prison for assault, the frequently overwhelmed Niina has to take care of the children alone.  Making matters worse, she just lost her bakery job before Christmas and she’s facing personal challenges, not the least of which is her ex-husband is expected to be released soon from prison.  Despite having no training beyond writing “poems about ponies” in school, Niina launches a one-woman investigation into the slowly developing mystery, laboriously searching through the archives, interviewing every quirky character in town, becoming a fervently educated voice for a misinformed community.  The tension escalates when a contingent of serious-looking Finnish military brass descends on the local hotel, but refuse to offer any explanation to the press, with the film illustrating a stark contrast between a secretive and tight-lipped Finland and the more freely reported news in both Norway and Sweden, as Finland could simply not admit that it was a missile.  Looking for leads, Niina strikes up a relationship with a handsome Finnish Air Force pilot Kai Repola (Pyry Kähkönen) who witnessed the incident, hinting that an errant Soviet nuclear cruise missile may be involved.  Their rapport turns intimate, an unexpected romantic diversion, while at the same time Niina’s sister Kaisa (Emma Kilpimaa) has her own wedding that she does not wish to be spoiled, while Niina’s own dysfunctional relationship with her domineering mother Hanski (Milka Ahlroth) is quite striking, as her mother still views her as a child and apparently can’t help but undermine Niina at every turn, continually devaluing her sense of worth, exposing yet another layer of past trauma and abuse, so when her mother says that Finland is a country troubled by a sense of inferiority and unworthiness, Niina knows the feeling.

Sharing a one thousand mile border with Russia and a 1948 border agreement (Finno-Soviet Treaty of 1948 - Wikipedia), the Finnish government initially classified the incident as a UFO.  And while hotel owners were happy with the extra business, including an international press clamoring for information, this becomes the biggest international news event in the history of the Inari region, turning into a real media circus, where the government was simply not interested in making this a matter of consequence, and was certainly not interested in airing possible differences in public.  In an era of political uncertainty, on the eve of US-Soviet disarmament talks in Geneva, where United States Secretary of State George Shultz was about to meet with Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, governments downplayed the incident, where at first the Soviet Union made no comment, while in Finland soldiers scoured the border area by helicopter and snowmobile in the bitter cold, with officials quietly checking with Moscow to see what had happened, as apparently a missile escaped from a military training exercise during a target test.  While the missile itself fell in Inarijärvi, Tervo’s film was actually filmed in Pelkosenniemi and Kemijärvi, where the Kemijärvi Cultural Centre is transformed into the fictional restaurant-hotel Tunturipeikko, with the director claiming “We wanted a film to have a milieu built on locals, not tourists.”  To that end, despite the grim implications, local eateries take advantage of the situation by creating rocket-themed fish dishes and missile-shaped donuts, which quickly sell out.  Making light of the incident is an all too human reaction, with the military continuing to downplay any significance, yet their very presence in such large numbers defies that position, with Niina continually pressing them on just exactly what happened, where her archivist position at the newspaper allows her to fully investigate other incidents and the devastatingly harmful impact on the environment, becoming one of the more persistent voices of the community, and an irritant to the military who grow tired of seeing her.  As Niina obsesses about the missile’s truth and the nation’s boundaries, she confronts the truth about her own personal boundaries, as her overcontrolling ex-husband is released from prison and wants to spend more time with the children, even hoping they could pick up the pieces of their marriage with promises of change, but it is only a matter of time before his true colors show themselves with a horrifically brutal beating, which is simply a shocking development, putting everything else in perspective, where unchecked power has a way of steamrolling its way through malicious, out of control behavior.  This humanized development is extremely effective, where the bully on the block shows its true stripes, as the film masterfully captures the essence of mistreatment and humiliation, reflecting the harsh reality that the citizens and the nation must learn to defend themselves against abuse.  Niina’s persistence in hounding the military for the truth finally pays off when they discover the missile is submerged under the lake, and she’s invited to watch the rather precarious retrieval, which is witnessed by the entire international media and world.  The period soundtrack is fabulous, with Bronski Beat’s No More War, No More War (Remastered) YouTube (4:01), Alphaville’s Forever Young (“…are you gonna drop the bomb or not?”), Alphaville - Forever Young (Official Video HD) YouTube (3:42), and Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark’s Enola Gay, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - Enola Gay (Official ... YouTube (3:34), fittingly playing while Niina and her family drink in excess and dance in slo-mo, where the irony is not lost that they could soon be obliterated.  The way this film deflects an enormous distortion of reality through absurdist humor and outlandish local character makes this a delight to experience, effortlessly evoking a myriad of emotions while crafting an amalgamation of contrasting genres and tones, becoming a moving essay on the importance of self-worth, accentuated by such an empowered, deeply humane performance by Oona Airola that makes this immensely appealing.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

The Happiest Day in the Life of Olli Mäki (Hymyilevä mies)







Olli Mäki in 1958









THE HAPPIEST DAY IN THE LIFE OF OLLI MÄKI (Hymyilevä mies)            B+                  
Finland  Sweden  Germany  (92 mi)  2016  d:  Juho Kuosmanen

A film of wit, brevity, and style, winner of the of the Un Certain Regard Prize at Cannes, offering a candidly refreshing side of Finnish boxer Olli Mäki who had a shot at the 1962 World Featherweight title in Helsinki, the first world championship match to take place in any Nordic country.  What makes this so fascinating is Olli’s low-key, uniquely subdued personality, as he’d rather be almost anywhere except the center of attention, feeling terribly out of place throughout the entire run-up to the fight, which is filled with publicity interviews, photographs, and newspaper stories hyping the fight.  Jarkko Lahti plays the rather reluctant hero, a small town guy who’s more at home working on cars, playing with kids, or bicycling through the countryside, seen early on with his girlfriend Raija (Oona Airola), where the two seem genuinely happy and in sync with each other, with both speaking their minds, but choosing few words to do it.  So Olli’s overdriven trainer and manager, Elis (Eero Milonoff), a former boxer himself, is a bit perplexed when Olli shows up for training camp with a girlfriend in tow.  In boxing circles, that’s just not done.  Nonetheless, he couldn’t get through the process without her, reminiscent of some of the early Buster Keaton films, like BATTLING BUTLER (1926), who only got into the sport of boxing to impress his girlfriend.  In fact, it would be easy to think this is a fictionalized film, as it only has traces of boxing to the story, most all of it taking place outside the ring, where it’s more of a character driven drama, feeling at times like a Kaurismäki road movie showcasing the outdoor beauty of the Finnish countryside, especially the wild music that opens the film played by the Ykspihlajan Kino-orkesteri (composed by Miika Snåre), Hymyileva mies - The Happiest Day in the Life of Olli Mäki | Cannes winner "Un certain regard" YouTube (1:33).  The real Olli Mäki had a distinguished amateur career, placing second in the European lightweight category in 1957, ultimately winning the championship in 1959 while still in his early 20’s, turning professional shortly afterwards with a record of 8-1, while his more experienced opponent, the reigning champion Davey Moore, had a professional record of 56-6. 

A visually striking first feature, shot in a sumptuous 16mm black and white photography by Jani-Petteri Passi evoking the newsreel coverage of the period, there is an immediacy captured simply by the way the film is shot, using plenty of 60’s cinéma vérité handheld camera movement, like that seen in Cassavetes’ Shadows (1959) or Chris Marker’s Le Joli Mai (1963), though there will inevitably be comparisons to Scorsese’s indelible portrait of Jake LaMotta in RAGING BULL (1980).  Far from being the bruiser that LaMotta was, Mäki is a communist baker from rural Finland where in boxing jargon he is known as the “Baker of Kokkola,” not exactly fierce words that make opponents tremble at the thought.  Instead he is a homegrown, working class hero with that one in a million chance to be Finland’s golden boy, where the real driving force behind his opportunity is his hard-nosed and ruthlessly ambitious trainer Elis who continually showcases his fighter in endless photo shoots, sponsor dinners, while meeting other high roller financiers in the bright lights of Helsinki.  But in contrast to the icy blondes of the big city, Olli is falling in love with an easygoing hometown girl in Raija, seen making eye contact with her at one of the press conferences, where the two may as well be lost in their own little world, making it harder for him to concentrate on the fight, as he simply wants to be with her.  Instead, Elis urges him to “look cruel” in one of the many pre-fight publicity photos, and when Olli hesitates to blow his own horn and instead humbly praises his opponent, Elis is quick to step in and play the part of the blustery promoter, continually raising the hopes of his countrymen, announcing he’ll be ready once they step into the ring.   Among his biggest concerns is dropping from lightweight to featherweight, where he’ll have to lose a significant amount of weight.  Boxers, like wrestlers, are used to this, but having never fought in this division before, he’s not sure what to expect.  Adding to this is the absurdity of all the free food provided by sponsor dinners, where making light of the situation is one of the things this film does best.  

Initially, when Mäki runs off to Helsinki to train, Raija comes with him, comically placed together in a small children’s room with bunk beds, where to get away and have some time together they run off to a local fairground attraction, throwing balls to dunk a pretty maiden in a pool of water.  But later, once she’s returned home, he revisits the fairground alone, in a beautiful series of shots not only invoking a tinge of sadness, but a despairing aspect in the harshness of the conditions by the people forced to work there, where we don’t even know who they are but we are led to feel empathy towards them.  With Olli left alone, we see him punishingly train outdoors in the rain, as the fight will be outdoors, yet he’s pushed to the limits, not physical endurance, which he’s used to, but all the other extraneous aspects that throw him into the limelight, eventually running away, back to the countryside to be with Raija, the place where their romance blooms, where some of the most charming scenes reveal the simplicity of the Finnish countryside, with people proudly linked to the land, as we see Olli take a heat sauna followed by a naked dip in one of the lakes.  When seen in this light, nothing could possibly feel more natural.  While no shortage of complications exist, the film inevitably leads to the ordeal in the ring, but not before a brief but telling scene reveals the date of the fight really is the happiest day of his life, something that will not be lost by viewing audiences, as happiness is something found in unexpected places and amounts to more than a fleeting moment of triumph.  The fight itself feels anti-climactic, though only because of the even-handed balance in the story, feverishly shifting angles and perspectives, all in search of an authentic emotional truth, where the film is at its best lingering on faces, sharing small, playful moments, infused with the smallest details far beyond the cliché’s of sports films, where the emotional resonance of romance takes hold and is utterly captivating.  Like John Garfield in Robert Rossen’s boxing film Body and Soul (1947), personal magnetism, refusing to be exploited, and the ability to express human decency prevails.  It’s only fitting, then, that the real-life Olli and Raija appear in the film’s final scene, a fitting tribute to them both.