Aki Kaurismäki had considered quitting filmmaking after The Other Side of Hope, but had left the door ajar about completing what, along with Le Havre, was being referred to as ‘Refugee/Dockyard Trilogy’. To the joy of every cinephile, he returned behind the camera 6 years later with Fallen Leaves; but, in a thoroughly unanticipated volte face, he made it as the delightful fourth chapter in his magnificent ‘Proletariat Trilogy’ instead, which arguably comprised of three of his finest works – viz Shadows in Paradise, Ariel and The Match Factory Girl – albeit, closest in both storyline and tone to the first film in how it too portrayed in a distinctively Kaurismäkian manner… that is to say, droll, deadpan, understated, melancholic, and with bone dry humour providing piquant accompaniment to sharp social and political awareness, and therefore “a delectable yet quietly poignant romantic comedy on two people who’ve never seen nor aspired for better days” (to reuse my words while reflecting on that seriocomic gem). The two lonely, drifting, financially struggling and kind-hearted working-class protagonists pushing into their middle-ages – reminiscent of the unforgettable duo of Kati Outinen and Matti Pellonpää – are the mournful Ansa (Alma Pöysti), who’s forced to take up one meagre odd-job after another, and the taciturn Holappa (Jussi Vatanen), a dismissed sandblaster slipping into alcoholism. Over the course of the film’s slender length, they shyly meet, develop mutual liking, but keep losing each other for both personal and circumstantial reasons. Filled with an eclectic Finnish soundtrack that asserted Kaurismäki’s terrific ear for music, and shot in vivid yet subdued palettes that distilled poetry and warmth from despair and desolation, this bittersweet film also celebrated cinema through various tongue-in-cheek references.
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