The dual personality of his native Finland-thought to be the most Americanized of Scandinavian countries, yet possessed of a Russian soul-inhabits the films of Aki Kaurismäki like a chuckling, Janus-faced muse. With witty irreverence and a stylish intelligence, this artist has worked national dichotomy into an arresting postmodern sensibility. Known to Bay Area filmgoers primarily through several San Francisco International Film Festival premieres and a 1989 PFA retrospective of the works of Aki and his brother Mika Kaurismäki, Aki Kaurismäki may yet become a household name with his new release The Man Without a Past.
Kaurismäki has a penchant for pastiche-for thrusting classics (Dostoyevsky, Shakespeare) into modern-day Helsinki and singing American rockabilly songs with a Finnish accent. And he has a distinctive tragicomic affinity for the underbelly of Finnish life-disaffected, marginal heroes drawn to petty gangsterism as an avocation and to each other as a last resort. (Actually, the last resort would be Estonia, honeymoon spot for the hapless Finn.) His first film adapted Crime and Punishment to the cruel anonymity of antiseptic Helsinki, and he is himself a kind of underground man, whose dispassionate cynicism is so relentless, it's got to be funny. But films like Match Factory Girl and Drifting Clouds reveal Kaurismäki's unsentimental soft spot for the working class, artfully hidden behind sardonic realism and the modernist visual palette of cinematographer Timo Salminen.
Judy Bloch