REVIEW: ‘Fallen Leaves’ Revels In Awkwardness

The entirety of Fallen Leaves, a Finnish romance written and directed by Aki Kaurismäki, hinges upon its subtle, bone-dry humor. This is not a sweeping romance. It’s barely even romantic at all. But it is something special. It peddles in awkwardness and uncomfortable tension between its leads. Long silences endure because these two characters have very little interiority or exteriority.

They’re boring people who are poor, nescient, and most of all, lonely. But as their paths cross repeatedly, they fall into a dumbfounded attraction that transcends the typical swooning or even sexuality. Instead, a gobsmackingly boring couple makes you laugh at how odd they are while nonetheless endearing you to their scurrying off of loneliness through sheer, simple togetherness.

Truly, nothing about either Ansa (Alma Pöysti) or Hollapa (Jussi Vatanen) is memorable unto itself. They’re just ordinary people. They’re not particularly dumb or dense. And they’re not especially attractive. Ansa has some oddity to her home with its old radio, and Hollapa is an obvious alcoholic. Otherwise, they just work ordinary low-paying jobs and have ordinary friendships that lack depth but at least make for entertainment and a sustainable amount of support. It’s the little moments between the characters that’ll keep you chuckling. Hollapa’s one friend has a recurring bit about karaoke and is a mediocre but kind pick-up artist. Sharp movement and dry line readings make for good, quick laughs over and over. It’s like how you would expect a night with fair enough friends to go.

Until Ansa and Hollapa finally actually encounter each other, and everything instantly switches from goofy funny to awkward funny. It’s not a difficult change. Both tones meld seamlessly. The hardy laughs at more obvious physical or dialogue humor just become limp, unassured laughs that can’t decide whether they’re at the characters’ expense or in concert with their beguiling experience. It’s unclear if they’re as aware of the movie’s heavy irony or if they’re completely sincere, but that only compounds the quality of the experience.

Kudos are especially warranted for the movie theater scene that plays out so truly unlike what Fallen Leaves’ poster would imply. It’s a microcosm of the whole experience of watching this movie. As you sit there in your seat bracing for something totally uncomfortable to ensue, you get incredible uncredited cameos, some huge laughs at straightforward and apparent jokes, and then top it off with Ansa and Hollapa making everything awkward.

But the two of them don’t see it as anything but romantic. Not an awkward bone exists in either body. So you wipe the sweat off your brow, accept that these two are bizarre, and move on with the rest of the movie somewhat accordingly. You can never quite shake the feeling that things are precarious, but so is life. It’s just nice to see people connecting and growing together, even, and maybe especially, these two.

The twists and turns of Fallen Leaves aren’t so out of the ordinary, but they’re so exaggerated by the perplexity of its main characters as to constantly invite big laughs and unsure snickers in equal measure. Whether you’re laughing at Ansa and Hollopa or with them is perhaps unclear most of the time. But you’re laughing, and you’re greatly appreciating the love they find in this cold, poor, lonely world.

Fallen Leaves is available now on VOD.