Tiens ton foulard, Tatiana

A very typical Kaurismaki film, very short (only an hour long) and in black and white. At first it seemed a bit slight to me, but as it neared the end it kind of clicked for me and I found it quite touching. Matti Pellonpää and Mato Valtonen star as two Finnish losers who meet up with a couple of female tourists from Estonia and Russia (Kirsi Tykkyläinen and Kati Outinen). Their bus has broken down, and they ask if the men would be willing to escort them to their ferry, which departs from the coast in a couple of days. The two women are clearly interested in romance, but the two men are alternately too thick-skulled and too shy to do anything about it. Man, Outinen is a fantastic actress. There's not much dialogue in the film, but she expresses so much with her face. Pellonpää and Valtonen aren't far behind her (no offense to Tykkyläinen, who is fine).

i really love this movie. it has so many unique and wonderful characters. every one celebrates his individuality. so many bizzare gadgets: a built in vinyl record player for cars, a coffee machine also in the car to ease one of the main characters need for the black drink (when there is no vodka around). a finnish road movie. slow pace, but lovely mood and the will to survive through the darkest night. very recommended. enjoy your life as long as you can and try to watch this movie before it ends ...

After seeing this movie I wondered how foreigners would experience it. Without knowledge of the social history of Finland in last century this movie must seem very strange. And if you know nothing about our civil war and the division of society these characters are devoid of meaning. Just two avoidant personalities, maybe? However from a Finnish perspective this is the perfect description of the outsiders of our society. The fellows who are left behind, but don´t agree with that viewpoint themselves. Who are stranded in the no-man´s-land between urban success and country desolation. They try to get along somehow and when they meet two Russian girls it´s the irony of fate staring them in the eye. The Russians are able to surpass social barriers without flinching, they just go on and talk, but these two Fenno-ugrian oedipal conflict prototypes can´t seem to find some meaning in this. Instead they resort to sulking, one of the basic Finnish social coping skills. What else can you do when you´ve got nothing in an otherwise expansive society, when there´s this huge discrepancy between your own success expectancies and reality, and when you watch the grandchildren of the victorious side in the Civil War pass you by. Not much, according to Kaurismäki who manages to make movies about that part of Finland that never goes to movies. For a Finn, the music is lovely as usual, the kind of music we grew up to after the war.

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.

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.