A cult hit on its 1989 release, Leningrad Cowboys Go America had critics reaching for some decidedly odd Robert Bresson–goes–Buster Keaton–remaking–Easy Rider comparison charts. The film helped introduce U.S. audiences to Kaurismäki's deadpan Finnish charms, and also to his recognizably American fixations: rock and roll, road trips, alcohol, and outsiders hoping to make it big. Satirizing the musical, the road movie, and the immigrant-success-story genre, it follows ten Finnish emigres (complete with strange hairstyles, extremely pointy shoes, and tag-along village idiot) as they stumble across America with a poorly conceived dream of riches: to become a powerhouse rock-and-roll accordion band. “What Finns like best about American culture is jukeboxes and Cadillacs,” Kaurismäki wrote, and Leningrad Cowboys is a waltz through a fantasy of such cultural detritus. The film barely bats an eye as it gets stranger and stranger, moving from New York to Mississippi, Finland to Mexico, and leaving all sense, meaning, and good taste behind.