Le Havre

This was one of the most visually stunning films I've ever seen. You could pause very nearly every shot and use it as screensaver or make a large print of it; that's how beautiful and well thought out they are.

Aki Kaurismäki evokes a sense of times past. He embraces the 'unreality' of his film, and the genre as a whole, and plays it up with great wit and art. As mentioned by previous reviews, he combines tragedy and comedy seamlessly into an extremely enjoyable and engaging film that doesn't try to pass itself off as life and as such engages on much deeper levels than its straightforward message or story would perhaps imply.

There are so many small details and well-thought out quirks here that keep your attention that it easily accommodates for my internet fried attention span, even while the director chooses not to openly deal with the electronic world. It's a decision indicative of the thoughtful and unique approach to the film; it aids both the storyline and the viewer's experience immensely. I was grateful and relieved to be taken away into a simpler and more honest world; both in the film's outward image, and within the story's universe. Its worth emphasising; this film doesn't try to masquerade as real life and as such allows for a much purer enjoyment. You don't have to worry about checking your expectations once the end credits roll.

Being beautifully shot may not have kept my attention for an hour and half, but the storyline and Kaurismäki's wit certainly did.

This is a sweet, lightly intoxicating thing like a small glass of calvados under the wisteria in the evening. Kaurismaki has aged and his outcast and misfit characters aged with him, the quirks mellowed, the ferocious smoking toned down, the lines in the sometimes quietly astonished stone faces deeper, wearier, but imbued with almost ascetic serenity.

Some viewers have complained, why trivialize an actual problem in the manner of a fairy tale? A fair complaint for a problem perhaps more pressing than ever, especially in France and especially these days, with Sarkozi's desperate attempt to shore up votes for what looks like near-certain defeat in the upcoming elections by reverting to reactionary rhetorics from the far-right.

No, I believe the fairy-tale is the point. The idyllic neighborhood. The mannered caricatures of French people, with even the poorest having the time and fine sense of taste to leisurely enjoy their freshly baked baguette or glass of wine. The miraculous turn of events, explicitly acknowledged in the finale where kindness of this world is so overwhelming it even cures sickness. How could anyone miss this?

But a certain emptiness has always been of the essence for Kaurismaki, deliberate, designed emptiness.

The world is always flat to that effect, two-dimensional. The characters lack any conventional depth to speak of and do not really grow or learn lessons. By contrast, the plots of the films often exhibit a life of spontaneous motion, the objectives intentionally abstract, journeys across town, to America, in search of coffee and cigarettes. Motion for the sheer musical capacity of life to fill the quiet, the room in the heart to do so.

So it is always a variation of transient worlds centered in the stillness of the present moment that Kaurismaki has studied and consistently delivered. What is so remarkable is that he achieves this without any layering whatsoever, as a single flow.

This is his most Japanese film to date, even more concentrated flow than usual. Which is to say artificial nature that does not attempt to pass for the real thing but instead is empty space cultivated for beauty, a road-map for inner heart.

(I saw this together with the recent viral video KONY2012 and the contrast was amazing: that one, shameless artifice passing as nature, as truth, the real thing, contriving to motivate awareness several years after the fact and by selling merchandise, but was in truth both misinformed and morally dubious and even perhaps unwittingly manipulated agitprop in the service of shady foreign policy, while this one is simple, crisp, gracefully moral work, that does create awareness without any agendas.)

So it is very much the point that no one in the film is shown to wallow in misery, and most of the characters we meet would have plenty of reason to do so. Instead they enjoy this drink or meal together, whatever is at hand. And act with no complaint in the present moment to do what needs to be done. There is no meddlesome thought or proud ego to cloud the mind from the day's work, be it polishing shoes or helping out an immigrant kid.

This is the beauty of the thing: an idyll embedded with the purity of soul that gives rise to it and clear images only possible because of this cloudless eye.

The parting image is of a blossomed cherry tree gently rocking in the breeze, among the most traditionally Japanese images.

It encapsulates motion in stillness. The song of Zen.

(Read the full review at http://nickplusmovies.blogspot.com)

I started off my experience at this year's Toronto International Film Festival with Aki Kaurismäki's "Le Havre", a rather obscure, small production that was competing for the Palme d'Or at Cannes (it was Terrence Malick's "The Tree of Life" that was the big winner). The question is: Did I start off on the right foot? Read on to find out...

"Le Havre" centers on an elderly, working-class shoe shiner named Marcel Marx (played by André Wilms), living with his loving wife Arletty (Kati Outinen) in the French port city of... Le Havre. Although his profession only leaves him with enough money to get by, he never gives up hope and always finds great joy and warmth in all the people in his life-- be it his friendly, selfless, next-door neighbor or the kind owner of the local bar. Marcel's life takes a bit of a turn when he must send his ill wife to the hospital, hoping she will get better soon. But that's not it-- soon after, when he finds himself alone, eating a sandwich at the harbor, he discovers a young African boy named Idrissa (Blondin Miguel) hiding in the water. Marcel befriends him and learns that he had been hiding with many other illegal immigrants in a shipping container, with hopes of arriving in London to meet up with his aunt. The old man voluntarily goes out of his way to keep him away from authorities and completely out of sight, but soon, this situation quickly transforms into a cat-and-mouse game, lead by the persistent, intimidating, wolf- like police inspector Monet (Jean-Pierre Darroussin).

With its simplistic plot, clearly defined characters, and inviting setting, this film has all the qualities and characteristics of a great short film-- if you don't count its feature-length runtime. Is this a bad thing? Hardly! I find that this makes the film all the more absorbing and enjoyable, though slow in progression at times and thus able to make your average modern-day moviegoer lose interest. But I still believe that sometimes, it's nice to just sit down and follow a naturally flowing, straightforward story, when most of the movies you see today are flashy and overly stimulating to the point where they bore you. "Le Havre" is something refreshingly different, for a change.

Rarely do films combine comedy with drama in such a natural, uncontrived way. With this film, Aki Kaurismäki proves to be one of the few working directors able to pull off a mixture of dark, ironic, and deadpan humor while maintaining the same upbeat, cheerful, and optimistic tone throughout the entire film. A great example of this guy's exemplary sense of humor is the opening scene of the film, where we see Marcel going around with his shoe shining materials, looking for a paying customer. He finally lucks out when he approaches a suspicious looking type holding a suitcase in his hand. As he shines this man's shoes, we see two other mysterious figures watching from a distance. It's clear that something's up. When Marcel finishes his job, the man pays him and quickly tries to escape. But it's too late; we hear gunshots, a tire squeal, and a scream as the camera lingers on Marcel, whose facial expression remains pleasant. He simply says: "Luckily he had time to pay.". Of course, since it's more of a visual gag, it's much funnier when you see it for yourself. Having said that, there's no denying that this film has very smart comedic elements.

What I love just as much-- if not, more-- about this little film is how authentic and down-to-earth the characters are in their interactions. Every scene is made into such an accurate portrait of life thanks to all of the real, human performances from the entire cast of lesser-known actors. The only thing that threw me off was how the couple of Finnish actors in the film let their accents slip through as they were speaking French. But this would be barely noticeable for those of you who don't speak either one of these languages.

Although this film is Finnish, it's obvious that it's shot on location in France. I was breathless as I got to admire the beauty of the ocean and the quaint coziness of the old city buildings. Sadly, this is the closest I've ever gotten to visiting France! No wonder these sights took me away.

In sum, Aki Kaurismäki's "Le Havre" is a simple, human tale that remains light and pleasant while brushing on topics of illegal immigration and the illness of a loved-one. It's a soulful film that mixes smart humor with true emotion, without ever feeling artificial. I recommend looking for this hidden gem. You might just like it.

The natural flowing of this simple movie, where no excesses are to be noticed ,may make one judge it as a weird movie, where something actually happens, but does seem to affect the lives of the characters. This is not properly true. Indeed, this is a simple movie, with no plot twists, no complications, but here does it lie its magic. It's a movie where "normal", common people simply accept their lives for what they are, which does not mean in a passive way, on the contrary they prove morally resilient people, who relate one another in an authentic way, behave as honest and fair people (so difficult to find people like these nowadays, that they look so strange!) they face bad things with dignity, and good things with no easy enthusiasm. Its best quality lies in the perfect and never clashing blend between hard facts (the hardships of immigrants, the theme of illness) and poetry, with a human faith in miracles which never sounds ridiculous or mystical: miracles happen simply because sometimes they may happen, and there's not even much to wonder at. There's such a placid attitude shown by the characters, very well interpreted by a good cast, that if the aim was to convey a calm and resilient acceptance of life, with its weird mixture of hardness and poetry, well, the aim has been successfully accomplished.

He's one of the directors (very few) there you recognize who's made the movie just after a couple of seconds. Kaurismäki has a tender view on shabby environments and shabby people. It has suited his Finland conception very well.

But it functions also in France and Le Havre, there you meet this shoe-polisher who tries to help a refugee boy. Not just the shoe-polisher, all working class people do.

It's a little miracle like every film in a sort of way is everywhere, but Kaurismäki takes it on without shame. And his environments and his tenderness seem to be universal. France is like Finland and the rest of the world.