Change Your Image
cebernhardt
Reviews
Miesten vuoro (2010)
Steam of Life Transcends Gender, Cutural, Generational, and Historical Boundaries
Steam of Life In Joonas Berghäll and Mika Hotakainen's Steam of Life, Men of various backgrounds intimately share their livelihood stories with both their comrades and the camera in different saunas across Finland. As their tales of love, loss, death, and life evoke feelings from all over the emotional spectrum, which rise up with the curling steam they cultivate in their saunas. It is in this little pocket of their universe that they can divulge the inner workings of their minds, and it is the poetic cinematography and editing that pulls the overarching cultural expose forward.
Intermingled with scenic shots of lush and dark Finland, the stories captured by Berghäll and Hotakainen's camera paint a complex image of manhood in Finland – an image that transcends both generational and cultural boundaries to ultimately provide insight on the lives of men in a modern world. Fatherhood, married life, military service, alcoholism, criminality, and self-consciousness thematically lay at the core of this film. Since the public baths of Ancient Greece, men meet where the steam rises to engage in multi-faceted discourse about life. At the close of each session, they appear reborn and cleansed in an unimaginably refreshing way.
Seeking refuge in the unforgiving yet comforting extreme heat of the sauna, these men strip away their outer façade to divulge the dark corners of their psyche's to one another. For some, this periodic meeting with friends is what seems to be getting them through each day of strife. For others, it acts as a moment to share in friendship and help others. No matter the trials or tribulations discussed, each man has his moment to share and everyone walks away from the sauna session with a newfound sense of inner peace.
The manner in which Berghäll and Hotakainen's film these dictations is reminiscent of a series of vignettes, giving the film an overall poetic feel. This film-poem approach allows the viewer to relate to the characters depicted. The film is strikingly capable of developing so much about the character of these men in such brief snippets. Not only this, but the film also achieves a showcase of commonalities between men of varied generations, socio-economic backgrounds, and mental states. The purpose of this film is achieved largely by its poetic form, and would have been nearly impossible to tap into in any other way – narrative, documenting the life of a single man, or otherwise.
The relationship between man and sauna is highly specific. With women scarcely sprinkled throughout the film, one might at first find this film to be anti-feminist. However, this is far from the truth. Due to the nudity and the biological reminder of male anatomy that comes along with it, the gender of the characters may at first hit a viewer over the head. Yet, as their tales are told, each man is seen as a person, first and foremost, and gender hits the back-burner. Their problems, emotions, etc. are in some ways gender specific, but the struggle and pain, the joy and camaraderie, are all human experiences with which viewers of any gender can relate. At the same time, the film creates a window into manhood and the issues that rise out of it. It acts as an important depiction of life for a man today, but successfully includes and invites any viewer to take part in the retribution these men find in their sauna sessions. As such, while both depicting manhood and all of its vibrant complexities, as well as the human experience in general, this film provides intriguing and important perspective on life for any viewer.
Låt den rätte komma in (2008)
Light and Sound Breaking Apart Binaries in Let the Right One In
Alfredson's Let the Right One IN (2008) explores the complications of puberty and compounds them with another layer of freakdom – being a vampire. While Oskar desperately fantasizes about standing up to the bullies in his middle school, he lives a lonely and friendless life in his remarried mother's depressing apartment. When he comes across Elli, a mysterious and beautiful new neighbor girl, he clings onto wisps of friendship that emerge. So much so that the two eventually embark in a pseudo-love story, together facing a world they feel won't let them in – a world of unreliable adults, malicious classmates, and unpredictable legal structure.
Narratively, it is clear that Alfredson works to take the feeling of otherness one step further through his implementation of the fantastical, by means of Elli the vampire. Not only does he place middle school children at the center of the story, but a middle school aged vampire is the point around which the story revolves – the ultimate misfit.
Additionally, however, Alfredson approaches the concept of the misfit cinematically as well. Through his use of snow as lighting in a dark and ominous Sweden, as well as the film's sound and music, we watch not only as two misfits fall in love, but also as the binary of good and evil is broken apart. In the brightly lit snowy evening of a dark Swedish town, the film begins with a man abducting and killing an innocent boy. As he drains the blood from the boys' neck, a curious white poodle emerges. While at first the dog throws an accusatory bark at the man, he later approaches the pool of blood the boy has spilt on the snow and laps it up. The capability for something so dark and evil to take place in a winter wonderland, and also be enjoyed by a white dog, counters our belief in the system of light as pure and dark as evil. In this case, whiteness operates as pure evil. Or so it seems.
As the film progresses, we see that the fair-haired Oskar, who is ever the victim of peer abuse, is capable of waving knives around in his free time and smacking a classmate on the head with a pole. Such violence from an innocent looking child seems jarring, despite the fact that his actions appear justified by the treatment he needlessly receives from his classmates. When he meets Elli and tumbles headfirst into an innocent childhood love affair, we audience members are further confronted with the confusing elements of sexuality. Everything we have come to understand as good and pure – childhood, young infatuations, victimhood – becomes more complex. Not only this, but our Kantian understanding of ethics is countered by Elli's condition as vampire, which is perhaps the highest form of moral complexity – I kill because I need to eat. Meanwhile, bullies attack for unknown reasons and are not explored as complex characters. As such, they are seen as pure evil in a film that dapples with more morally corrupt actions than stealing a hat from a peer.
When Oskar passes judgment over Elli at the revelation of her true nature, she accuses him of wanting to kill out of revenge if he could. He does not argue, and goes on to assist her in killing so she feed. When Elli rips some children limb from limb in an attempt to save Oskar's life, the already blurred dichotomy between good and evil becomes slightly clearer – people are simply not what they seem and surface level evil is not always true to the core.
The narrative strand of the film is beaded with an 80's punk rock soundtrack, shedding a new light on this music genre – angry though it may seem, it acts as a beautiful outlet for the misfit character like Oskar or Elli as they dance along to it. The sounds of Elli's hungry stomach are at first off-putting and frightening, but as we see her pained young face struggle with hunger, we empathize with the rumbling in her stomach, rather than fear the growling of it.
As such, Alfredson works to mud up the waters of moral understanding in his exploration of the misfit livelihood. Hyperbolizing otherness through the use of a vampire in the form of a young girl, and confronting pre-conceived notions about good and evil, we see that everyone is capable of both - even Oskar's bullies wince in hatred for themselves for what they do to him. There is some comfort to be found in walking away knowing that no single being is wholly good or entirely evil.
Musta jää (2007)
Characters All Around in Kotwica's Black Ice
Kotwica's Black Ice (2007) manages to tackle almost every complexity of person-hood, through the route of infidelity. Middle-aged, gorgeous, and intelligent Saara discovers that her husband Leo has been unfaithful on her birthday. After finding herself surrounded with motherhood at work the next day, she decides to follow Leo's other woman, Tuulli. However, Saara unexpectedly finds herself falling headfirst into a deep friendship with Tuulli. As their friendship unfurls, Saara learns both sides of Leo and Tuuli's relationship. Saara takes Leo back for a time. Ultimately, however, when Leo dies unexpectedly in angry pursuit of what he thinks is Saara's lover (but is actually, in fact his own), Saara is confronted with the loss of Leo and the necessity to make peace with Tuulli. Leo's former lover is pregnant with his child, and despite Tuulli's attempts to rid herself of the child, she winds up on Saara's operating table. The film here comes full circle as Saara saves both Leo and Tuulli's child as well as Tuulli herself.
The cinematic choices made by Kotwica that give the film an overall dark and empty feel act as a manifestation of the inner emotions of Saara, and eventually of Tuulli. Treated wrongfully by the same man, the two women want nothing more than to hate one another. And yet, they find themselves bonding over their experiences of Leo's failure. A feminist message can here be found for the viewer. Subjected to a more than dark fate, Leo is ultimately held responsible for his wrong-doings. And while these two women are left to bear the repercussions of his actions (laboriously bringing his baby into the world, finally confronting each other with honesty, grappling with maintaining a friendship), they find that they are bound to one another in a way they never thought possible. We see the reflection of their dynamic and emotions most in the scene where Tuulli returns home with "Clara" (Saara) after a night of depressed partying. The house is dark in color, yet harshly lit, giving it a museum-like feel rather than a homey one. Additionally, the wind howls loudly outside. The harsh winter taking place around the characters for the duration of the film climaxes in this scene even though, interestingly, they are inside. Working to survive in the vortex of a life they have found themselves very much within, Tuulli and Saara must confront the truth of their relationship, as well as the truth of their relationships with Leo.
Thematically, Kotwica chooses to divulge the intricacies of infidelity through the exploration of the human form in every stage - infancy, nudity, youth, middle-age, vulnerability, sex, death all sit at the core of Kotwica's exploration of this theme. He even goes so far as to push the boundaries between friendship and homosexuality, if even for a brief moment. The recurring setting of locker rooms is a means by which Kotwica ties together further the characters of Saara and Tuulli. Where else is one most vulnerable than a locker room? Or a bedroom? Or out in the harsh elements of winter? Each of these are spaces in which we find our characters most often. At the close of the film, we even see Tuulli on the operating table - entirely submissive to and dependent upon Saara, who surprisingly chooses to save Tuulli and the baby's lives rather than "accidentally" take them.
We see on many occasions that Kotwica smartly ties together both unlikely characters, as well as their emotions, with the environment within which they exist. The reflection of the characters' emotions in the film's mise-en-scene intelligently and effectively ties them together and tells the viewers more about their individual identity as their response to their situation is revealed in this way. Kotwica's choice to depict the characters through their environment provides the viewer with a full understanding of how infidelity can completely surround and engulf a person.
Hawaii, Oslo (2004)
Hawaii, Oslo - A Connective Film
Erik Poppe's Hawaii, Oslo (2004) catapults into a four-branched plot line when a psychiatric ward guardian – Vidar – awakes from a dark prophetic dream, in which a friend of his is hit by an ambulance and killed. In the dream a man runs along the streets of Oslo and is hit suddenly by an ambulance. Each character featured in the film approaches the dying man on the street to find out what has happened. The film then unfolds in a manner that reveals to us the background of each character, as well as their role in the prophecy dreamt by Vidar.
While the branches of the plot are linked together through Vidar in his pursuit to rectify the fate he has foreseen, the characters from each corner of the film don't really interact in substantial ways in day-to-day life. Their stories are connected, although they themselves are not. However, they are connected in ways beyond their revolving around Vidar.
Themes pop up in repeated places, showing the viewer what these people have in common. Brotherly relations, for one, are heavily focused upon. Both sets of brothers, Leon/Trygve and Mikkel/Magne, pair a dominant, yet broken elder brother with an inferior, misunderstood, and wise little brother. Both Leon and Magne are dominated by their elder brothers, as they appear to be falling apart more visibly at the surface. However, we soon see that although he may take more charge in attempting to control his own life than Leon does, Trygve is the truly broken and lost sibling. Additionally, Mikkel represses emotion as a coping mechanism. Both elder brothers suppress their more emotionally in-touch younger brothers as a means by which to exert control over something in their lives. Poppe intelligently deconstructs this relationship by providing us with examples of this theme at two different stages of life – boyhood and adulthood.
We also see two paralleled parenthoods. Mille and Frode feud over how to approach the nearing death of their newborn son. Frode does everything possible to prevent it, even when doctors and his spouse alike tell him the baby cannot be saved. Mille focuses on spending as much time with her baby boy as she can, so Frode must have hope enough for the both of them. "You need to stop dreaming. You need to wake up!" says Mille. "I am awake! Listen to yourself!" replies Frode. When the doctor tells the couple he cannot morally advise them to explore this experimental procedure, Frode explodes, "So we should just give up?!" With conflicting viewpoints, the couple works through the adversity confronting them.
Meanwhile, Tina gives up all hope on her own life and attempts to commit suicide, only to be revived and find out that her former lover has passed away. Deciding that her children now need her in their lives, she sets out to forsake her own desire to die in order to be present for her boys. Life and death sit at the forefront of these two familial livelihoods, but the theme remains the same: There is an innate human need for parents to do anything possible for their children.
While these family units strive to become whole in their respective story lines, we see Asa and Leon work to fulfill a marriage pact made over a decade ago. The prospect of love and happiness are what drives these two characters from the start of the film. Leon thus resolves the brother theme by deciding to reject his role as inferior, and take over his own life. What better way to depict this rejection of the inferior brother role than to present his character with the opportunity for romantic love? Choosing a successful loving relationship over a dysfunctional one, Leon selects Asa's Hawaii rather than the one Trygve presents him with. He also becomes linked with Frode and Mille as he embarks on a romantic partnership, and all the themes related to achieving a successful one.
From a filmic standpoint, taking on this many characters and story lines can be daunting for the filmmaker. But Poppe rises to the occasion, effectively utilizing every last moment of screen time for each person in the film. As tensions rise, and the climax arrives in each situation, Poppe strategically cuts from storyline to storyline. Just when we are hungry for more from Frode and Mille, we are presented with Magne and Mikkel's struggle. Frustrated perhaps at first with the jarring transition, we quickly remember that we had to be torn away from Magne and Mikkel as well. The viewer never feels spread too thinly among these stories, but rather intrigued and compelled by each one all the way through. Poppe's use of effective dialogue (not too much and never too little), as well as his succinct introduction to the characters coagulates to effectively form a well-constructed and interesting set of players. We know just as much as we need to about each character, but we always want to know more due to how beautiful and engaging we find them.
Poppe smartly creates a character solar system, in which every character revolves around a prophet named Vidar. Yet, he takes it one step further by creating thematic links among these well-constructed characters. This intelligent web he has spun not only makes for an intriguing, heart-wrenching human story, but also shows the viewer that people are connected in more ways than they may know, or ever even see. With the cornucopia of events set before us, very viewer can find a character, relationship, or situation with which to relate. The audience can go from there in order to see how different situations and relationships, as polar as they may seem, have a surprising amount in common. Underlying each of these thematic events and existences is the concept of human control over fate, something every living person ponders at some point or other in their lives.