Jubilee Films for Pilgrims of Hope: ‘Fallen Leaves’
The 20th feature film by Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki, “Fallen Leaves”, released in 2023, is one of the works chosen by the Dicastery of Evangelization to accompany the pilgrims of hope on their jubilee journey. Father Greg Apparcel reviews the film and expresses his desire to see more Kaurismäki films.
By Fr. Greg Apparel, CSP
“Fallen Leaves,” a 2023 film from the Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki tells the story of Ansa (Alma Poysti) and Holappa (Jussi Vatanen), two lonely people who, through a circuitous route, somehow find each other. Although it has serious overtones, the humor is as dry as possible, but I found myself laughing out loud on several occasions. This was surprising because the film is full of very depressed and unsmiling people listening to the tragic news of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. And when that becomes too difficult, they turn to a music station that plays songs with the most depressing lyrics.
Ansa and Holappa (sort of) meet cute at a karaoke bar. Holappa’s friend Huotari sings with a deep baritone voice and thinks he is the best. Ansa’s friend Liisa tells him that his voice is well preserved for such an old man and of course he is insulted. During this exchange, Ansa looks across the room at Holappa and their eyes meet, but not much happens.
Holappa hates her job and Ansa loses her job as a food stockist at a market after bringing home a sandwich that has passed its expiration date. She gets another lifeless job as a dishwasher at the California Pub. Holappa just drinks. A lot. He said to his friend: “I’m depressed because I drink. » “Why are you drinking?” “Because I’m depressed.”
At the pub, while the owner is arrested for drug trafficking, Ansa recognizes Holappa outside. He invites her to have coffee and then to the cinema. They see Jim Jarmusch’s “The Dead Don’t Die,” a zombie comedy starring Adam Driver and Bill Murray. A man outside says, “Great movie.” It reminded me of Bresson’s “Diary of a Country Priest.” This is one of the many lines that made people laugh out loud. Ansa tells Holappa, “The cops could never have handled so many zombies. » “Did you enjoy it?” he asks. Without smiling, she said: “I have never laughed so much. » She gives him her number but not her name. He puts it in his pocket but, unbeknownst to him, it flies away when he takes out his cigarettes.
On the radio, Russia strikes Ukraine again and Holappa cannot find Ansa’s number. She waits for the call which never comes. The background music is sad and depressing. Holappa waits outside the cinema hoping she will be there. After he leaves, Ansa walks by and sees his cigarette butts.
At work, Holappa has an accident and is accused of being drunk, which he is. After his dismissal, he and Huotari have a few drinks at the Karaoke Bar. “Do you remember that night? » he asks. “There were two women… I met the smaller one later. We almost got married. I lost his number. Huotari says they worked in a supermarket. “All I remember is the other woman saying I wasn’t good enough.” They are still drinking.
Ansa gets another job and listens to depressing news, then music with lyrics like “In the early morning rain, with an aching heart and my pockets full of sand; I barely know where I am. I miss my loved one, in the early morning rain.
Holappa also gets another job mixing cement. He waits again in front of the cinema and Ansa comes by. “You never called,” she said. “I lost your number,” he replies. “I was looking for you.” She invites him to her house for dinner the next evening. “Give me your address.” “Why would I? You will lose it! With a deadpan reading of these lines, this conversation is truly funny, sealed by Holappa pretending to put Ansa’s address in his coat pocket and zip it. “Don’t get robbed,” she said.
For dinner, Ansa buys an extra plate and cutlery and a small bottle of sparkling wine. He brings flowers. They eat quietly. He drinks the wine in one gulp and wants more. They still listen to bad news about Ukraine on the radio. “Bloody war,” she said, turning off the phone. And here is the turning point which ultimately leads to a conversion of hearts. Ansa sees him secretly taking a sip of alcohol from the bottle in his coat. “My father died from alcohol,” she said. “My brother too. My mother died of grief. I won’t drink. He replies: “I will not take orders” and leaves. Holappa is now descending into a black hole as he continues to drink until he reaches the bottom. He is fired again for drinking on the job and ends up sleeping on a park bench.
Ansa adopts a little dog who makes her smile. She has someone to take care of. In another depressing bar, a group of girls sing, “I don’t know if I can make it to my grave.” . .I like you but I can’t stand myself. Holappa is there, listening, but not drinking. He returns to his boarding house, throws his alcohol in the sink and throws away the bottles.
A few days, even weeks later, it is autumn and the leaves are falling in the park. Time passes and Holappa calls Ansa. “I’m as sober as a desert rat,” he told her. “What made you change your mind?” “You did it.”
What follows is another twist, but I won’t give away the ending. What I loved about this film, besides the dry humor and subtly delightful acting, is that even with these people depressed and alone, there is hope that they will come together and come together. save. They lose each other, find each other, get lost again, and somehow get back into a relationship. Of course, the film ends with the song “Autumn Leaves” with these lyrics: “Since you’ve been gone, the days are getting longer, and soon I’ll hear the old winter song.” But I miss you most of all, my darling, when the autumn leaves start to fall. It wasn’t Nat King Cole’s version, but it was still touching. I now want to see more of Aki Kaurismaki’s films, like “Drifting Clouds”, “The Man Without a Past”, “Le Havre” and “On the Other Side of Hope”. I guess the style of humor and the feeling of hope is perhaps the same as what I experienced in “Fallen Leaves”.
