How sad is this?

A Major Disappointment

The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

The movie turns out to be a little better than the average. Starting from a romantic formula often seen in the cinema, it ends in the most predictable (and somewhat bland) way.

Markku arrives in Helsinki and is badly attacked. After his physical wounds have sufficiently healed he leaves hospital. However, he has lost his memory and as such finds it difficult to lead a normal life, finding it impossible to secure employment or a place to live. He encounters a number of characters, some helpful, others not so. The film ends positively with Markku becoming partners with Irma who he has met at the Salvation Army hostel and justice being meted out to the thugs who originally attacked him.A slow movie which gives us time to focus on the nuances and detail in the characters and situations. An appealing combination of black comedy and dry humour.

As I'm watching Kaurismaki's curious exploration of the human condition for the first time, I'm thinking that I don't like these folks very much--the defiantly aggressive landlord, for instance, with a dog that chews the nose off people who don't pay the rent.But the director, who begins his film with an aggressively violent act (much as happens in the Japanese film The Eel), then sets the viewer down in the new world in which his hapless protagonist ends up--slathered in bandages, passed out at the edge of an icy lake in Helsinki; first impressions give way to understanding in this sweetly humanistic film, as the hero rents a cargo container to live in, adopts the previously mentioned dog (who never once barks), teaches a Salvation Army Band some 50s rock and roll (hilarious!) and learns something about love--as we all do. What a refreshing change from the Tarantino Bloodfests we have unfortunately taken as some kind of entertainment. The Man WIthout A Past is civilized, humane entertainment, an immersion into dark humor with a benevolent edge.

It is not typically easy for an American to make a comment on anything Finnish, and for this comment to possess any kind of depth or insight— the last time I can remember Finland coming up in anything remotely related to the American occident being accidentally nuked in an episode of the Simpsons. In many of the scenes of A Man Without a Past, it looks like Finland has been nuked, too. Or, at the very least, Helsignors, where the bulk of the movie takes place, looks to have taken a nasty beating. The movie follows the mysterious main character—only later named—through his adventures in Helsignors, which he arrives at by train at the very beginning of the movie. At the onset of his adventure, though, he suffers assault from three rascals who take all of his money and a deal of his possessions. They also take his memories, as he suffers memory loss. When the main character wakes up, he is washed up near a seaport, staring at two little boys whose family ends up taking him in for a while.Amnesia and memory loss are not in any way novel plot devices. In fact, they may be some of the most clichéd. What makes them fresh and interesting in A Man Without a Past is Aki Kaurismäki's method of storytelling. The audience experiences the main character's trials just as he does, as his life begins to unfold in Helsignors. The town feels as strange to him as it does the audience, creating a wonderfully convincing atmosphere, and adding to the general feeling of desultory drifting that pervades a good deal of the film. The main character is on a journey, but no-one, neither the character nor the audience, know where to. Another factor adding to the strange atmosphere is one of director Aki Kaurismäki's hallmark techniques: dialogue which is sparse, hypercorrect, and jarringly stilted. It is not that the acting is bad, or the delivery of the lines off. It is just the dialogue which is strange. Characters—even those whom are oddballs and would not necessarily speak like normal people—do not talk or interact in ways remotely organic. Often scenes are filled with awkward staring or looking away, the kind of gestures one would expect to see in soap operas, drama, plays, operas, or bad sitcoms—just not in a serious cinematic production. Though awkwardly reminiscent of 70s and 80s televisions programmes, the dialogue is also sometimes awkwardly charming. The interactions between the main character and his love interest are so infantile, banal, and earnest, it is easy to see why they could get together. The stiltedness of the dialogue is indicative of the overall style of the movie: it is minimalistic. It is not, however, focused or artistic in a sullen, European way. It is plainly simple. The plot is not meandering or plodding, but it develops at a measure pace. The movie is not long, clocking in at less than 90 minutes, so boredom and dragging are not likely to be any problem. The pacing of the plot is most appropriately described as life-like. Again, the movie is about the main character's (new) life eventually unfolding. He meets people, develops relationships, looks for a job, gets turned down at a government office, entertains dreams of becoming a rock'n'roll manager—a real life is made up of many little things, daily activities, and dreams. The main character himself is a minimalist and a realist, and it is his attitude (and his actor's portrayal) is one of the highlights of the movie. Again and again bad things happen to him. Despite whatever does befall him though, he remains constantly in relatively the same mood. Taking things in stride, he deals with the characters peopling his new life with a generally good nature, just as likely to banter with a drunk as he is with the pathetically corrupt policeman emptily threatens him. His interactions with these people leave one feeling light, happy, and amused, as well as frustrated when he lets himself be walked over without any truly heartfelt objection.Another highlight of this movie is the characters director Kaurismäki has come up with. Interesting, kitschy characters are practically a staple in his films, but the abundance of oddballs does not take detract from the delightfulness of a single one. In particular the formerly mentioned cop stood out. Typical of the corrupt cop archetype, he is "business minded", obviously operating against the law, taking bribes, and on and on. But he also has a ridiculously adorable dog named Hannibal, whom he feeds only raw meat and tries to threaten people with. He is so covered in keys, key rings, and pairs of handcuffs, that when he walks he sounds like a child shaking a piggy-bank full of pennies and nickels. But he is not a bad man, and he seems to get along just fine with the main character, even though he constantly is swindling the main character. There is also in this movie a kind of obtuse criticism of the welfare state, society, Salvation Army, and the whole lot, though it is not so biting that it either a) takes itself too seriously, or b) detracts from the overall movie. Rather, the system to help the downtrodden is portrayed in a way such that it is just another part of an absurd life. It is not an answer to the main character's problems, nor particularly helpful to anyone who does not have a name. The Salvation Army, as secular as it behaves despite the myriad of Jesus paintings hanging around, is infinitely more helpful than the Finnish state. As for the system overall, though, Irma sums it up eloquently when she tells the main character, "God's mercy reigns in heaven, but here on earth one must help himself."

This movie is just plain awful. There's simply nothing to grasp onto, intellectually, emotionally, or thematically. Some people say they like to "fill in" the meaning of who the characters are and what the film is about, but I think that's hard to do when you're given so little. It's a film constructed as a product of the new Cult of Mediocrity, with its virtuousness being aligned with its absence or lack of things rather than the particular presence of anything. Mediocrity has become a kind of religion in which its priests hold a position of moral superiority against anyone who insists that there is such a thing as individual greatness. Yet anyone who practices this religion is a hypocrite, as it is impossible to go through life without assigning value to things and without admiring products of individual human spirit, even if one isn't conscious of doing so. The intentional blankness of this film delights people today who are offended by the "imposition" of the ideas of an author, the craft of a director or an editor, the skills of an actor, or indeed by the offensive crime of making a good film. A bad film flatters people, as do characters who are inferior to them. But this film is universally loved because the bitter pill of politically correct drab festival fare has been lightened up by a rock and roll number here and a flat joke there. So it's a sort of repressed burlesquing of the festival film, almost a joke about festival films designed to amuse cranky jurors and audiences, and in my view nothing more than a clever balancing act. In the hyper-political film festival world, art has been replaced by politically correct self-effacement. At least a third of the comments here are by people who compare this film favorably to Blockbuster Hollywood films. Their comments reveal that they want to show that they "get it," that they know how to eschew entertainment for political correctness, that they are not like the Philistines out there who expect a movie to have a plot and characters and a point. The fact is that there are really good films out there that are not formula films with linear plots, but that do have a spiritual or intellectual or emotional center, are rigorous, and are ABOUT something. And there are also films with great artistic value that DO contain linear plots and characters. If anything this film is SIMILAR to Blockbuster Hollywood films, in its absence of meaningful motifs and its imposition of social and moral conformism.