“they don’t make em like they used to” is a cliche we’ve heard time and time again through every era of cinema over the past few decades. this is true, but i’d be the last to see that as a bad thing. cinema as an art form has always for the most part found comfortability in the collective agreement of form and, save a few outsiders striving to break boundaries, has come to be defined relatively easily in commercial and art house circles alike. i often wish that experimentation with image and sound was more of the norm in the cinema, but alas like everyone else i’m content with what we’ve historically come to know as the movies. the last couple decades have shifted the tides moving further and further away from experimentation and into algorithmic formulas; whether it’s the superhero movie craze, the continued degradation of the comedy genre, or even the festival circuits which nowadays consist mostly of carefully curated and constructed experiences meant to check boxes and sway favor based on social manipulation. these observations aren’t meant to act as a death sentence on the integrity of cinema, obviously there is plenty of inspired work still being realized, this year was a fair example of that as has every year that i’ve been actively seeking out the wonders of moviemaking. it’s just that you can probably count on your fingers the amount of truly groundbreaking filmmakers that have spawned since the turn of the century, so for the first time ever i can actually find myself relating to the above noted sentiment.
as the credits rolled for aki kaurismaki’s fallen leaves, i couldn’t believe how comforting it felt to connect once more with a cinematic old timer who, while admittedly firm in his comfort zone, was still able to display such a passion and excitement for expressing himself through the medium. moreso than his recent features, this new offering felt like a pitch perfect distillation of his cinema, trim but full of heart, approaching and representing the world around him as he sees it. there’s something about the deadpan nature of his expression that for some reason gets at reality in a more direct way than most of our day to day lives. he’s consistently been heartwarming and hysterical throughout his career but this particular one felt elevated due to a sense of reflection. you can tell that he’s looking back on something, whether it’s the films he’s made or the ones he’s been inspired by or grew up on. here, the cinema is the birth of love, and the meeting point for when our characters have lost their way to each other. plastered with movie posters that i’m sure each have their own specific meaning to aki, he goes even further to play us some of the movie the lovers are watching, perhaps to show us what he’s been enjoying at the cinema in recent years; or just to give a playful nod to his american twin, jim jarmusch.
on the surface, the film reads as a wholesome meet cute but really there’s so much being explored through the characters in regards to addiction and commitment. that’s why i say that while this world they function in is clearly heightened and manufactured, it is very much grounded in a piercing reality at its core. the same can be said for someone like wes anderson, who found a great balance of that with this year’s asteroid city, but i find that aki with his more subtle and surreal approach connects on a deeper level for me. the details of the dynamic being conveyed here immediately brought me back to my parents and my father’s struggles with alcoholism, a man who couldn’t make the decision to change his life in time to secure his love for my mother, a woman who just like ansa grew up with an alcoholic father and didn't want her child to fall victim to the same pattern. the very real fears of succumbing to your demons and missing your blessings are displayed here with great care and understanding. again, all the while maintaining a playful tone full of the bliss of life, the joys of music, dogs and everything in between. for the last couple months, i was sure there wasn’t going to be anything inching close to martin scorsese’s killers of the flower moon for me as far as a favorite or most impactful cinematic experience but with aki’s little ode to cinema, i was given the other side of that coin. where scorsese’s cinematic distillation results in a sparse and sprawling over 3 hour epic drenched in dread, aki delivers a brief and heartfelt depiction of love as an antidote to isolated loneliness and self destruction.