Another joyous work from the Finnish master Kaurismaki whose films always brim with delight and wry humour, an unmistakably Finnish sense of humour. In typical whimsical fashion Kaurismaki has created a charming story set in a nondescript time in a place that couldn't be more current evidenced by the major conflict in the film, the issue of illegal immigration. Le Havre is a city that suits Kaurismaki like any other place in Finland, with it's traditional working class port and harbour, the unique blend of French cultures and English climate. As a francophile with his very dry nordic wit and humour, Kaurismaki is perfect for this somewhat dire subject.
In trademark Kaurismaki style, it is also a very colourful film; with the help of his (brilliant) veteran cinematographer Timo Salminen, Kaurismaki imbues the city of Havre with life, humour in what is characteristically (perhaps only in my perception) a grim and (literally) cold place. Kaurismaki has always had a great eye of visuals, some of his compositions with Salminen are gorgeous: notice the impressionistic ray of sunlight illuminating a grey stone wall at the Gare de Calais, the boisterous colours of the fruit and veg shop with it's provincial style store front, even the shipping containers by night in the rain are haunting and melancholic. It's as if the film was shot in Technicolor, so vibrant is the palette of colours (consistent in most of Kaurismaki's works) it looks like it belongs in an era decades ago. This is coupled with the fact, the style is almost anachronistic from the style of fashions to the modest decor of Marcel's house and the local bar, to the rotary dial phones and very little other modern technology. It is all an utterly charming strange universe.
Kaurismaki's films always play out like a fable of sorts, the every day man (or woman in Drifting Clouds), lives simply in a modest lifestyle, almost on the edge of poverty, making ends meet, with a dream or catalyst to set them off some expected new life. In this case, a writer of sorts Marcel Marx lives each day just to get by and care for (or be taken care of) his equally devoted wife Arletty. When she gets sick and has to go to hospital, she prefers not to worry him and understates her sickness, so he can go along and continue with his life. At the same time he discovers a young boy Idrissa who is on the run from authorities after illegally immigrating from Africa with what looks like entire family of about 20-30 members. His kind and mellow heart leads leads him to foster the boy under his roof with he help of the kindly townsfolk (and the absolutely heart meltingly irresistible Golden Retriever Laika!). However local inspector Monet is on the hunt to restore things to natural (read legal) order.
This combination of hard edged social realism with the young boy and his family' dire outcome and the joyous optimism of Kaurismaki's benevolent play off watch other beautifully. There is some much dry humour in detective Monet's interaction with the townsfolk, the hopeful and determined innocence of Marcel's quest to reunite the boy with his family which belies his simple and bucolic lifestyle, and the efforts of Arletty to ask her doctors to lie to her husband so not to worry him.
Although not as ingenious as his masterwork The Man Without a Past (2002) perhaps lacking the incisiveness and tension in that film (admittedly I've only seen that and Lights in the Dusk (2006)) however Kaurismaki remains in the top eschelon of the very great filmmakers working today due to his incomparable individuality and visual style, generosity and sincerity of his characters, some of which are hopeless nobodies, but they grow on you. He is foremost a humanist storyteller, challenging his characters to do their best, not always perfectly, but with the right heart. I was utterly charmed by this world of Le Havre; in a serious subject about current problems today, that's not always easy to smile about.
In trademark Kaurismaki style, it is also a very colourful film; with the help of his (brilliant) veteran cinematographer Timo Salminen, Kaurismaki imbues the city of Havre with life, humour in what is characteristically (perhaps only in my perception) a grim and (literally) cold place. Kaurismaki has always had a great eye of visuals, some of his compositions with Salminen are gorgeous: notice the impressionistic ray of sunlight illuminating a grey stone wall at the Gare de Calais, the boisterous colours of the fruit and veg shop with it's provincial style store front, even the shipping containers by night in the rain are haunting and melancholic. It's as if the film was shot in Technicolor, so vibrant is the palette of colours (consistent in most of Kaurismaki's works) it looks like it belongs in an era decades ago. This is coupled with the fact, the style is almost anachronistic from the style of fashions to the modest decor of Marcel's house and the local bar, to the rotary dial phones and very little other modern technology. It is all an utterly charming strange universe.
Kaurismaki's films always play out like a fable of sorts, the every day man (or woman in Drifting Clouds), lives simply in a modest lifestyle, almost on the edge of poverty, making ends meet, with a dream or catalyst to set them off some expected new life. In this case, a writer of sorts Marcel Marx lives each day just to get by and care for (or be taken care of) his equally devoted wife Arletty. When she gets sick and has to go to hospital, she prefers not to worry him and understates her sickness, so he can go along and continue with his life. At the same time he discovers a young boy Idrissa who is on the run from authorities after illegally immigrating from Africa with what looks like entire family of about 20-30 members. His kind and mellow heart leads leads him to foster the boy under his roof with he help of the kindly townsfolk (and the absolutely heart meltingly irresistible Golden Retriever Laika!). However local inspector Monet is on the hunt to restore things to natural (read legal) order.
This combination of hard edged social realism with the young boy and his family' dire outcome and the joyous optimism of Kaurismaki's benevolent play off watch other beautifully. There is some much dry humour in detective Monet's interaction with the townsfolk, the hopeful and determined innocence of Marcel's quest to reunite the boy with his family which belies his simple and bucolic lifestyle, and the efforts of Arletty to ask her doctors to lie to her husband so not to worry him.
Although not as ingenious as his masterwork The Man Without a Past (2002) perhaps lacking the incisiveness and tension in that film (admittedly I've only seen that and Lights in the Dusk (2006)) however Kaurismaki remains in the top eschelon of the very great filmmakers working today due to his incomparable individuality and visual style, generosity and sincerity of his characters, some of which are hopeless nobodies, but they grow on you. He is foremost a humanist storyteller, challenging his characters to do their best, not always perfectly, but with the right heart. I was utterly charmed by this world of Le Havre; in a serious subject about current problems today, that's not always easy to smile about.