Before
Finland's free-market experiment in full employment turned
sour in the early 1980s, an unwieldy percentage of eligible
workers were in the employ of the government, enjoying social
benefits some described as utopia-come-to earth -- until the
national debt burst its bubble. What followed were austerity
measures that produced national withdrawal symptoms worthy
of the excesses that prompted them: Social programs vanished
as New Deal politics (for many) reverted to old deal politics.
Faster than mushrooms popping up after a hot rain, urban centers
filled with vagrants, migrants, dead-beats and a new class
of homeless. It is here, in the margins of dystopic Finland,
Aki Kaurismaki's finds the inspiration for his writing and
filmmaking.
The
first of his films to gain international recognition was Drifting
Clouds, (1996), which follows the downward spiral of a
couple who lose everything except each other and the unsuspected
determination to regain their dignity and a small piece of
the pie; but only after the husband learns to accept his wife
as the principal provider. The Man Without a Past,
(2002) nominated for a Palmes d'Or at Cannes, continues the
work begun in Drifting Clouds.
A
man, portrayed by Markku Peltola, is mugged and left for dead.
He wakes up in the recovery room of a hospital where he concocts
a bizarre escape. Totally amnesiac, he finds himself in the
care of a destitute family living in an abandoned shipping
container by the sea. But atypically this is not a film of
a man trying to find out who he is (or was) but rather of
a man trying to make a future for himself in an environment
whose derelicts, misfits, and oddball characters recall the
miserable London of Charles Dickens. Gradually, we discover
that however unfavorable a person's life situation, it need
not be at the expense of his core values.
Throughout
this film the old guard, comprised of quirky, comical, Cannery
Row types, and despite hardship and temptation, almost always
rises to the occasion of doing the right thing. As far as
Finland is concerned, it seems that the divide between generations
is not so much economic as spiritual and moral.
Of
the many delights in this often humorous, witty film, is its
script, written by Kaurismaki, which gets to the point with
devices that thoroughly charm the ear. From words whose meanings
are oddly weighted, to uncommon phrase constructs, every line
is delivered with edge and unpredictability while retaining
a naturalness that speaks to the wonderfully measured performances
of Markku Peltola and the sublime Kati Outinen. If style is
what finally distinguishes art from artifice, Kaurismaki has
produced a script that manages to be both laconic and lyrical,
recalling David Mamet at his best (House of Games, Things
Change).
The
Man Without a Past celebrates what is important in life.
It demonstrates that a film can be philosophical and still
be entertaining. Its simplicity belies the wisdom that affects
the heart as much as the head.
Of
the films lasting effects, the first is to entice us -- in
the land of plenty -- to set a better example. After being
made to enter into the lives of the desperate and dispossessed
who have been left to fend for themselves, we expect to see
the worst of them, but we don't. They refuse to see themselves
as victims, a surprising fact that throws into a dubious light
our own withering values and all-too-quick recourse to violence
in the face of hardship. The film argues that any ethic worth
its salt, once instilled, is inviolable, beyond the reach
of life's worst circumstance.
The
second effect of this quietly graceful film (not unlike Babette's
Feast) is to persuade us that even more than our material
needs, a friend, and/or timely gesture from another person
or community are what constitute the real riches in life.
The
Man Without a Past is what quality, low budget filmmaking
is all about - and more. It's about having something to say
and saying it well. It's about passion, craft and control,
where every ego on the set is made to serve the final product.
That
far too many European films get short shrift on this side
of the Atlantic is an ongoing event that is happening on our
watch. But for those willing to challenge the categories that
determine the films we attend, the films themselves are their
own reward.
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