La fille aux allumettes

This is a downbeat story of a young woman, Iris, who works on an assembly line in a match stick factory in Finland. Iris' life would give testament to the truth of Thoreau's quote, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." She comes home from her tedious job to a dismal apartment that she shares with her mother and stepfather--both major losers. They take what little money Iris earns and berate her if she spends on herself.

While Iris is not unattractive, she presents such a sullen and drab appearance that she is ignored at community dances, until she buys a new red dress when she finally attracts the attention of a man. But don't plan on a happy ending to that one. Years of suppressed resentment can provoke dramatic acts of revenge.

At a little over an hour this movie could have played as an episode on "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." Except it has better production values and acting that most shows on that program. I thought the humorous twist in the final scene was particularly in the style of Hitchcock.

I enjoyed the establishing shots in the match factory. I have never given much thought about the process of creating match sticks and found the presentation of that interesting. So much complexity and machinery involved in producing such a simple product.

But a masterful minimalist portrait of a woman taking one of the few options open to her. "Iiris" is a Dickensian heroine: beset with a brute of a step father, loving a wealthy cad who turns cold when she expects warmth, and reaching out to a distant brother who loves her but cannot provide the family she seeks. Overall her world is so bleak, cold and mean that the universal comment I heard after the movie screened was "Thank God I'm not Finnish!". This is a 20th century telling of the tale of the Little Match Girl so the end fits modern sensabilities.

The humor of this comedy is easy to miss as you watch it play out, but on retrospect it comes through loud and strong.

My personal highlight of the movie was the use of song and music to propel the action. Not having a clue about Finnish pop music, I'm sure I'm missing some elements, but the subtle themes come across quite well.

Yesterday I watched this film straight after Kaurismaki's film of the same year 'I Hired a Contract Killer', and this struck me as a far superior film, possibly because I'd prefer to see drab Finnish locations than (the usual) drab British locations and maybe also because of the annoying poor acting from Jean-Pierre Leaud's female co-star (my Finnish friend asked me why the women sounded like a 'learn the English language' tape). Overall the film seemed to be a generally better piece of cinema than 'Contract Killer'.'The Match Factory Girl' is a continuation of Kaurismaki's trade-mark minimal style (and also content)in which a young (match-factory working) girl leads a depressingly sad life in which she is used and abused by everyone around. Kaurismaki's films (to me at least) can be described as deadpan Bergman in silence, and yesterday i heard that Aki grew up with autism, this is partly the reason of the lack of communication between characters and also the low amount of dialogue. The film is not as depressing as sounds though, and is lifted by Kaurismaki's use of deadpan humour. For any Kaurismaki (add to this Jarmusch and Kitano)fan, this film will not disappoint, although it is pretty difficult to track down.

With THE MATCH FACTORY GIRL Kaurismaki might not tread new ground but instead perfects the stylistic hallmarks that marked him apart from most other directors of his generation. His work is that of a sculptor, hacking away at all the cinematic fat, shaping form by removing that which is not necessary. His movies as an extension of his sculptory approach attain an almost hypnotic quality - or perhaps boring uneventfulness for others. He's not at all trying to hit emotionally draining highs and lows but build a rhythmic lull, a soothing pace created of flows and ebbs that move with imperceptible change. As a result, his movies never hurry to get anywhere fast and when they get there not a whole lot happens. It's all about appreciating how they got there and the stylistic subtleties of that journey.

THE MATCH FACTORY GIRL finds Kaurismaki shunning dialogue even more than previous efforts, if that's even possible without making a modern silent picture. Which it pretty much is. The entirety of the dialogue doesn't amount to more than 1 minute and that too is used more as a form of punctuation to the images - he could easily have done the movie completely without dialogues if he so wanted. The story could have been summed up in a 20 minute short yet Kaurismaki stretches it to 65 minutes, a meagre duration by most people's standards, which here feels like a good 90 minutes.

Although the material is perhaps the most bleak and brooding he had done at that point in his career since his debut CRIME AND PUNISHMENT, it is spiced up by moments of his trademark glacial humour. A certain scene in bar involving a drunk, sleazy patron and rat poison had me laughing out loud, which is a minor success for a film of this kind. The most dramatic scenes are delivered with that same kind of deadpan unaffection that immediately acquires a serio-comic air for that reason.

Although it lacks the playfulness of its predecessor (ARIEL), this is still Kaurismaki in top visual form. He has a way with images and how he orchestrates them that is quite unparalleled at his level. Sure he's not a director of epic works and spectacle but he's carved a niche for himself over the years that has his name and particular sensibilities written all over it and he's been content to work within it. If you like his style, this is a safebet. If you're a newcomer I'd suggest starting with something like ARIEL.

A riveting early masterpiece by Aki Kaurismaki. Kati Outinen is extraordinary as Iris, the long-faced factory worker of the title, who lives with her truly appalling parents in (probably) Helsinki. She cooks the meals and does all the housework, while they completely ignore her, preferring to watch TV and drink. Iris buys a dress and goes to a party - everybody ignores her there as well, and her scandalised mother forces her to take the dress back to the shop. A middle-class man picks her up in a bar and sleeps with her, and then leaves the next morning. She informs him that she's pregnant; he sends her a cheque and a note saying "Get rid of it." She quietly and inexorably starts to revenge herself on the world.

There's not much dialogue, but you don't need it; the camera stays on Outinen's mesmerisingly gloomy face. Iris is possibly the least glamorous heroine in movie history, but without apparently doing anything, Outinen shows all of Iris' hope, despair and the consciousness that it's going to get worse before it gets better. A great movie; since Fassbinder's death, they don't make many like these anymore.