Tiens ton foulard, Tatiana

The Finnish infant terrible returns to the monochromatic rock'n'roll vibes of his earlier CALAMARI UNION, only this time he substitutes the avant-garde surrealism with the silent, deadpan minimalism he meticulously cultivated for most of his career. Two thirty-something rockers working menial jobs and leading dead-end lives embark on an impromptu journey in their cool car, along with a coffee-car mixer and a portable record player. Along the way they meet two Russian women who are looking for a lift.

TATJANA is part road movie, part romance, both done in Kaurismaki's distinct, ever so enjoyable and relaxed, quiet way. The black and white cinematography is absolutely fantastic, the soundtrack as usually an eclectic mix of rock'n'roll, jazz and folk and the mood of the same deadpan unaffection that permeates the rest of his work. His characters cold and detached on the outside, yet they miraculously emote better than the best overacting could afford you.

Clocking at only 59 minutes, TATJANA doesn't so much feel as a fully-fledged movie as a broad stroke. Seen independent it's one thing; seen as part of Kaurismaki's broader universe, like another vignette of gloomy but not miserable Finnish life, it takes its proper place. See it in a double-bill with CALAMARI UNION or ARIEL.

Although Finnish film 'Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatiana' is a short film but the manner in which it has been directed by Aki Kaurismaki, it can be stated that it beats many a feature film both in content as well as style. This has a lot to do with its exclusive focus on some unusual male-female relationships which have been shown to be successful even in the absence of a common idiom. Alcohol and Coffee play an important role in Aki Kaurismaki's films and this film is a perfect example of the extent to which people would go in order to get hold of these beverages. For a road movie shot in black and white, this Aki Kaurismaki film has challenging roles for Finnish actors Matti Pellonpää and Kati Outinen. It is with utmost sincerity that they demonstrate that language is not a barrier for two people to communicate their feelings as gestures can also be used to express feelings of mutual appreciation.

Even though there tend to be some incredibly funny scenes in his films, Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki has only done three proper comedies in his career thus far: the hilarious Leningrad Cowboys Go America, the less inspired, but still watchable sequel Leningrad Cowboys Meet Moses and Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatjana. It is the last of these that stands out as the funniest (read: best), largely because it doesn't try to be openly amusing most of the time.

At first it looks like a road movie, since we've got two average Finnish blokes going on a trip together: one of them, the coffee-addicted Valto (Mato Valtonen), is trying to escape from his boring daily routine (he lives with his mother, whom he locks up in a closet at the beginning of the movie); his pal, Reino (Matti Pellonpää), a mechanic with a soft spot for Koskenkorva (the Finns' favorite booze), comes along just for the fun. The two don't do much aside from driving and drinking, that is until they run into Klavdia (Kirsi Tykkyläinen) and Tatjana (Kati Outinen), two women from the former Soviet Union who ask if they can join the odd couple.

This is where the film really comes to life, as Kaurismäki sets to emphasize, and thus subsequently erase, the difference between two cultures: Klavdia and Tatjana enjoy chatting and dancing, whereas Reino and Valto prefer to shut up and keep drinking (the longest either of them ever speaks is when the former brags about breaking some guy's teeth). And yet their silence says more than all the dialogue Kaurismäki has ever written (which, Bohemian Life notwithstanding, isn't that much), and through that non-communication something deeper starts to take shape between the otherwise rude Reino and the sweet Tatjana, leading to a beautiful shot (also used as the film's poster) where the two of them are shown sitting together on a bench. This stunning image (which is quite similar to a shot in Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation), relying solely on the actors' faces and (minimal) gestures, not words, is one of the most touching the Finnish master has ever filmed, and invites obvious comparisons with Shadows in Paradise, also featuring Outinen and Pellonpää. The latter, in particular, gave his best performances on those occasions, being to Kaurismäki what Robert De Niro used to be to Martin Scorsese, and his premature death at age 41, which occurred a year after this film was completed, adds an extra emotional punch to the movie, especially the aforementioned scene and the oddly (for the director, that is) optimistic, heartfelt epilogue.

Kaurismäki's films are, admittedly, a bit of an acquired taste, something not everyone might enjoy (I wasn't actually that big a fan either at first, before I understood how captivating his works can be), though Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatjana, is the kind of movie non-fans could give a try, its magic lying in the director's trademark minimalistic approach: things are kept real and simple, meaning that the movie may be very short (59 minutes), yes, but also that every single one of those minutes is unmissable.

I have not seen a film like this one ever. While it doesn't stand out, Kaurismaeki's impressive tact kept my heart and funnybone peaked and suspended for the duration of the film with his classic understated, wry charm. Surf rock has, incidentally, never looked so good on a rocky northern coast.

To say the least, the film piqued an interest in Kaurismaeki that has led to my heart-melting and guffawing appreciation of others like the matchstick factory girl and (although to a bit lesser extent) The Man Without a Past.

While I could drop 50-cent movie reviews, chiches, and plot synopses here, I'll get to the point instead: Kaurismaki is intelligent, and seems to have no need for pretense. He has digested American images and music, and given us his own irresistible story of Finland in this dynamic. His aesthetic tact, pacing, use of light, and soundtracking are all par excellence.

This film is his best, in my opinion, and I hold him next to Julio Medem as the winner of this century's title for the most consistently gorgeous film-making.

Caught this on Moviedrome a couple of years back and watched it again recently. Kaurismäki's direction is ahem, directionless and very minimal. The two males are boorish; the two Russian girls more expressive and fun-loving. Coffee and vodka are two addictions 'suffered' by Tatjana and Valto.

There is love of sorts found at the end for Tatjana and Reino. Whether or not this savage plot twist will surprise us viewers or not matters little. Beautiful and bleak with a fantastic soundtrack, "Take Care..." is a film that says absolutely nothing but does so with style.

5/10