Sügisball

Movies like this are easy to like. Dramatic, brutal stories told with black humor, interwoven in a way that makes it all a journey into a theme. Magnolia and Shortcuts comes to mind as great examples of this. Sügisball is a good attempt with high ambition, but sadly it fails to follow through on it.

Perhaps if the movie was a bit longer it would not be as obvious, but the characters within the stories told are all to similar. Not only in their loneliness (which, to me, seems to be the central theme of it all), but also in their situation, age, etc. I wish the stories were a bit more varied, as it would not have made the movie as dull as it was at times. But as mentioned, this could maybe have been fixed by shortening it by quite a bit.

That said, there are some great scenes in this movie, and some interesting and memorable characters.

Considering the close geographical, ethnic and linguistic connections between Estonia and Finland, it is a shame how few Estonian films get proper commercial releases here in Finland. In spite of my limited knowledge about the small country's cinema, I enjoyed director Veiko Õunpuu's first feature film Autumn Ball a lot.

Based on a 1979 novel by Mati Unt but set in present day, the film examines the separate but intertwining lives of several people living in the colossal Soviet era housing units in the Lasnamäe district of Tallinn. Mati (Rain Tolk) is a bohemian writer who has just been left by his wife (Mirtel Pohla), while Maurer (Juhan Ulfsak), a trendy architect, is still together with his girlfriend Ulvi (Tiina Tauraite) despite his growing sense of disillusion with his life and the people around him. Theo (Taavi Eelmaa) works as a doorman and is also completely bored with his job, coping with his frustration by seeking numerous sexual encounters with various women. Laura (Maarja Jakobson) is a single mother of a young daughter Lotta (Iris Persson), who is in turn approached by a middle-aged Finnish barber named Kaski (Sulevi Peltola), upsetting her mother and caretaker.

Life in the suburb appears to be highly forlorn; the methods to escape the banal reality range from getting drunk and having a lot of meaningless sex to just watching television or making seemingly obnoxious but secretly sincere advances to whoever is close. Although the overall mood remains desolate almost all the way throughout, there is plenty of deadpan comedy to be found here and there, such as Mati's unsuccessful attempts of stalking his wife, discreetly buying pornography or talking his way out of getting a parking ticket. The film also avoids judging the characters despite their flaws, particularly Kaski, whose true nature is cutely implied even when he is shown little respect inside the story world. Finnish veteran actor Sulevi Peltola is as good as always in his small role, but the Estonian actors deliver enjoyable performances in their quiet roles too.

Narrowing it all down to just the most common elements shared by all the characters, the film's theme could be said to be loneliness and difficulty of communication. Õunpuu utilizes many visual techniques to emphasize the states of mind of his characters: the sickly greenish glow of the exterior scenes at night and the angular shape of the towering apartment buildings against a cloudy sky look great per se, and the carefully planned mise en scène of the wide static shots of run-down urban landscapes follow the tried and true traditions of art cinema beautifully. A spoken reference to the works of the Swedish director legend Ingmar Bergman also cements Autumn Ball's thematic connection to the continuum of similar efforts by earlier filmmakers. However, the film does not only consist of quiet long takes like many stereotypical art films; Õunpuu moves the camera whenever necessary to follow his characters in their daily (and nightly) wanderings, even getting outright shaky at points.

Even if the director's reluctance to provide neat little conclusions and some story lines receiving more attention than others result in there being a risk of the whole feeling slightly incoherent, it is always pleasant to see this type of visually driven storytelling amidst the talky soap opera style of many less skilled directors. The constantly compelling atmosphere keeps Õunpuu's collection of human fates fascinating from start to end, so Autumn Ball can be unhesitatingly recommended to all admirers of good-looking and tragic but sometimes also hopeful stories.

From those lands which have been in the stronghold of the former UdSSR and where any form of creativity has been strangulated systematically, there is normally not much to await regarding advanced culture. The few Estonian films that are at present (end of 2009) available of international DVDs, are thus practically worthless. But not so Sügisball (2007). It tells, partly serially and partly parallel, the actual stories of five or six couples living in the same typically Communist tower-block where the windows must have been recently substituted but the money was lacking in order to get the isolation material into the wall. Because, in Communist times, most apartments were not rented, but owned by their tenants, we also see how different they look: starting with the poor, booth-like interior of the hairdresser, passing the roomy private-library of the writer/drinker and arriving at the fancy penthouse-stylish flat of the architect.

The people in this movie are basically potential suicides, drinkers, hopeless, betrayers and betrayed, desperate housewives, children without any clear future. We see pictures from one habitation-silo, but they are representing the basic atmosphere of a whole land at the geographical transit from East and West and at the temporal transit between Sowiet dictatorship and a boundless but insecure freedom. The style of the movie is practically a full-copy of that of Kaurismäkis films. I wonder, if the director made this decision deliberately or if there is something coming up like a "Fenno-Estonian movie-style Koine". Fact is: The Kaurismäki-style is so laconic and so light-less that by its means alone it is sufficient to describe despair and hopelessness. However, the director's decision was good. Film-style and story are "isomorphic". Finland has in the person of Aki Kaurismäki the "Finnish Fassbinder". Perhaps Estonia has gotten now in the person of Veiko Öunpuu the "Estonian Fassbinder". I would be happy for Estonia. Like all Fenno-Ugric lands, it has a grand potential of culture, history and metaphysics.

Veiko Õunpuu's Sügisball is a quiet and thoughtful film about loneliness, emotional numbness, and the everyday lives of people in post-Soviet Estonia. Set in a grey apartment complex in Tallinn, the movie follows several characters whose lives overlap in sad and subtle ways. Even though the setting feels cold and harsh, there's something deeply human and relatable in the stories it tells.

The film moves slowly and focuses more on mood than on action. It feels more like a poem than a traditional story, showing how each person struggles with isolation and their desire for connection. The characters feel real-not exaggerated or overly dramatic-but each of them is dealing with a kind of quiet pain. The dark humour and occasional odd moments only highlight how bleak their lives really are.

One of the funniest, yet most surreal moments is a doorman dancing like Michael Jackson. It's strange and unexpected, but it somehow fits. Later, a coat-check worker explodes in frustration at a film director who makes romantic comedies-a moment that's both intense and a little sad. It's followed by a strange and moving scene of an old man laughing alone, which perfectly sums up the film's mix of sadness and absurdity.

Sügisball isn't flashy or fast-paced, but it's powerful in its own quiet way. It's a film that captures the beauty and sadness of everyday life, showing how hard it can be to feel close to others-even when they live just next door.

'Sügisball' is for people who don't mind slow-paced artistic films. It's visually stimulating, raw and unique.