Mika is the older but less known of the Kaurismäki brothers,
both among the founders of modern Finnish cinema. Unlike the internationally acclaimed
Dardennes and the Coens, the two Finns rarely work together, where the better
known Aki began as an assistant, screenwriter and actor in his brother Mika’s
earliest works, whose first film THE LIAR (1980) was an overnight
sensation. Mika was inspired by Finnish
film historian Peter von Bagh’s book History of Cinema, studying cinema in Munich at the Hochschule für
Film und Fernsehen before returning to make films in Finland. In the 1980’s he and his brother, along with
various colleagues and friends, co-founded the Villealfa Filmproductions, a no
frills, low-budget film studio that by the end of the decade became the third
biggest production company in Finnish film history, while Mika also co-founded
the only film festival north of the Arctic Circle, the Midnight Sun Film Festival in 1986. By the 90’s however, Mika and Aki started to
produce their films separately through their own production companies, with
Mika living in Rio de Janeiro since 1992 mostly making documentary films, where
perhaps his most memorable is TIGERO: A
FILM THAT WAS NEVER MADE (1994) with Sam Fuller and Jim Jarmusch. This script was written in the 80’s, where it
was originally entitled Road South,
traveling from the north of Italy south to Sicily, but the project fell through
when the lead actor had scheduling difficulties, so it’s had a long gestation
period. In total, Mika has done seven
road movies, culminating with this film, which is built around a lovable star, Vesa-Matti Loiri, Finland’s most popular actor, comedian, and singer, best
known for his role portraying Uuno
Turhapuro, a comedic character that originated in early 1970’s Finnish television,
continuing his portrayal in a total of 20 movies between the years 1973 and
2004.
This darkly comic and touching road movie follows the
unlikely scenario of a ne'er-do-well, outcast father Leo (Vesa-Matti Loiri)
absent for 35 years finally paying a visit to his long-lost son Timo (Samuli
Edelmann), where there’s obviously more than just a gap of time missing between
these two polar opposites. Timo is seen onstage
playing classical piano for a Sibelius Piano Quintet, Jean
Sibelius - Piano Quintet in G Minor, JS 159 ... - YouTu (5:26), while Leo,
who has a ticket for the performance, is drunk and asleep on his doorstep by
the time Timo arrives home, announcing he is his father while offering him a gesture
of good will, an already half-open bottle of whiskey. While Timo is something of a joyless
workaholic concert pianist separated from his wife and daughter, largely due to
his incessant need for practice when he is home and prolonged absences on tour
away from home, Leo is more of a good-natured opportunist and scoundrel used to
taking advantage of people and situations, traveling on a Paavo Nurmi
Finnish passport, where he thrives on the moment. While Leo is a consummate liar, often getting
lost in his own fabrications, Timo reluctantly agrees to accompany him on what
he thinks will be a brief afternoon jaunt out of Helsinki to visit a sister he
never knew he had. Instead this turns
into a hilarious romp through the Finnish countryside as they head north to the
Lapland driving a stolen Pontiac convertible.
While Timo is under the mistaken assumption that his father may fill in some
missing details about his past, Leo is more interested in just having a good
time, where spending time together with family is all that matters, which
interestingly enough, is a similar theme in Alexander Payne’s Nebraska
(2013), an exploration of America’s heartland that features another grizzled
character in Bruce Dern. Unlike Nebraska,
which probably plays better in America, this film probably plays better outside
Finland, as it exports a kind of broad-based Finnish humor rarely seen in the
rest of the world, built upon fabricated storytelling and constant
misdirection, as Leo is forever taking advantage of his son’s naïve
gullibility.
Kaurismäki’s dark-edged humor has at its roots the absurdity
of Eastern European rule, and while never occupied by the Soviets after World
War II, Finland was forced to cede much of their land to the Soviets, returned
a decade later. This placed them in a precarious position of being a nation
caught between the East and the West, where few exploit that humor better than
the Kaurismäki’s, who in films like Lights
in the Dusk (Laitakaupungin Valot) (2006), or my absolute favorite
Kaurismäki film ever made, Take
Care of Your Scarf, Tatjana (Pidä huivista kiinni, Tatjana) (1994), often
show remnants of an Eastern European mindset, adding stoic faces, rigid
authoritarian rules, and a world filled with eternal gloom, often broken up by
a wacky delight in Elvis, early rock ‘n’ roll music, and of course,
drinking. Unlike the wordlessness or typical deadpan in other Aki
Kaurismäki films, Loiri couldn’t be more outlandishly appealing as an oversized
oaf, who despite all his character flaws, means well. The guy is a
walking storyteller wherever he goes, where stories literally pour out of his
mouth at the most inopportune times. While Leo’s amusing practice of
Finnish custom, visiting people unannounced and just walking right into their
homes, has an endearing quality to it, as the film provides a nice observational
feel where it’s continually feeding off of this forced intimacy of the two
characters in a car, where they’re constantly at odds with their surroundings
and the people they meet. While the film is an odyssey into the family’s
past, the scene of the film is an impromptu performance at a typically empty
hotel bar where the father and son break into a superb rendition of “Autumn
Leaves,” or “Dead Leaves” with Finnish lyrics, Tapio Heinonen - Kuolleet Lehdet
( Les feuilles mortes ) - You YouTube (4:12), followed by “Condemned to
Walk,” Vesa-Matti Loiri
& Samuli Edelmann - Tuomittuna kulkemaan YouTube (3:56), where
Loiri’s deep bass voice expressing heartbreak in the land of a thousand lakes
works brilliantly, even as they pick up a couple of girls afterwards, adding a
touch of romanticism to the absurdity of their adventure. While the tone
of wacky adventure is mostly fun, the film is wonderfully nuanced with small
and intimate moments among the many roadside attractions that sensitively
explores larger themes of family roots and redemption, magnifying the
importance of shared moments, beautifully elevating the material with a touch
of eloquence from the music of Schubert’s Piano Sonata in G Major, D 894 (Op.
78), opening movement, Molto moderato e cantabile, Franz
Schubert.Sonata G-dur.1.Molto moderato e cantabile YouTube (16:51).
