Juha

In a time where everything is so hectic it is good to see a proper film that is done in a way the films were done in the era of silent movies. The scene shootings are long, much appreciation is paid on lights on the faces of the actors...did I mention this is also black&white film.

Music and nature breathe, story goes on, the audience of this film is trilled by the skills of the director and cameraman. This film is a fresh breeze of something that many have forgotten in storytelling and movie-making among action-loaded movie-scenes that fills the screens and displays these days.

This movie is something quite different. My recommendations.

The first reaction is: a silent movie? in black & white?? In Finnish??? Have no fear. This is a terrific movie, one of the best of the year, perhaps even Kaurismaki's best. Tremendous soundtrack, equally good acting, beautifully written. Juha brings it all together with rare power. Don't dare miss this one.

Juhani Aho's 1901 novel JUHA is a classic of Finnish literature, a dismal view of Nordic life over a century ago when life in the country was poor and brutal. Crippled farmer Juha lives with his lovely young wife Marja and the two manage their planted vegetables and livestock. The rich and seductive Shmeikka happens to drop by, and he manages to convince Marja to leave her husband for a better life in the big city. To Marja's horror, Shmeikka proves to be a pimp who imprisons her in a brothel. Meanwhile Juha, feeling humiliated, plans his revenge.

Aho's novel had been adapted for stage and film on a few occasions before, but Aki Kaurismäki's 1999 film offers a fresh take. Kaurismäki chose to shoot it in black-and-white as a silent film, with the minimal dialogue necessary to get the plot being shown as intertitles. But Kaurismäki's film is also, like all of his work, a black comedy. Sure, at the climax he depicts the events as a straightforward drama, but elsewhere the shots are imbued with a subtle humour. By this point in his career, Kaurismäki had established a set of stock elements from which he assembled his films: deadpan faces (Kati Outinen as Marja hardly moves the lower portion of her face, doing everything with her eyes), a mismatch between a modern setting and antique appliances or class struggle, and bands on stage performing some antiquated rock or Finnish tango genre. Shmeikka (French actor Andre Wilms, in the third of his collaborations with the Finnish auteur) is such a stock 19th-century villain that his mere presence in this modern-day setting elicits laughter. And the setting that Kaurismäki has chosen for the ending, which I won't spoil here, is a laugh-out-loud example of his depiction of Helsinki.

Kaurismäki also likes to play up the features of silent films that nowadays seem silly to us: in an early scene in the village tavern, Juha (Sakari Kuosmanen) laughs wildly and slaps his hands on his knees, the kind of overacting typical of the silent era. Just as silent films had musical accompaniment that seems kind of insubstantial and lightweight, here Kaurismäki has commissioned a score that is pure muzak.

The humour may be too subtle to get for viewers who aren't already attuned to this director's sui generis style. A film like "Drifting Clouds" or his so-called Proletariat Trilogy might be a better introduction to Kaurismäki. Also, JUHA feels somewhat slight compared to some of his other films, and black-and-white photography has never been his forte. Still, I enjoyed this film as part of a chronological journey through Kaurismäki's output.

This was our second Kaurismaki film, and we absolutely loved it. I don't know of any actors other than Kuosmanen and Outinen who have the facial expressions to carry off this role. The sheer goodness and pain of the character of Juha are piercing, and Kati Outinen can convey a million different changing emotions just with her eyes.

We totally agree with the author who pointed out that the attention to detail is one of the things that makes this movie great. Watch Juha and Marja's wedding rings and how their position changes as the movie continues. The movie is certainly not comedy, although there is some very stark and surprising comic relief in very strange places.

A pleasant little trifle - a modern-day Finnish silent film, with few intertitles (but a somewhat tacky music score) about a decent cabbage farmer whose wife is lured away by a seedy underworld type. The film sketches their initial contented lifestyle with deliberate naivete ("Happy as children," says the caption), all the better to set up the ultimate tragedy. Cleanly and simply shot, the film is obviously no great shakes, but it places itself with total conviction within the silent film aesthetic - tipping us off to the villain's nastiness, for example, through an unselfconscious shot of him stepping gleefully on a butterfly; and also finding room for a classic-type shot of a dog running after the bus carrying away his master. The design of just-so-slightly exaggerated faces and postures is sustained quite well, setting up an ending that seems authentically modern and tragic for all its bogeyman-type trappings.