The Other Side of Hope - Review

In these tumultuous, uncertain times of political upheaval and economic instability, there are few things can be relied upon. It would seem fortunately though that the precisely crafted deadpan absurdism of Aki Kaurismäki is one thing that will remain constant. Much like a Brian De Palma set piece or a Robert Altman long take, Kaurismäki's comedy is one of those things that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, safe in the knowledge that you're in an able pair of hands. 

In The Other Side of Hope, the second film in his planned dockyard trilogy, we once again find ourselves in the odd world that is Kaurismäki's Helsinki. Full of retro 50's props, blank, expressionless faces, and characters who barely stop smoking and drinking enough to deliver the deadest of deadpan lines you can imagine, it is a cold, bleak place. As usual though, Kaurismäki manages to create some warmth via his masterful capacity to find comedy in the strange places that other directors wouldn't think of looking. 

Kaurismäki follows in the vein of Le Havre (the first in the trilogy), throwing a typical Kaurismäki loser into a more politically charged story that attempts to tackle the plight of refugees. The loser in question (and the star of the show in my opinion) is restaurateur Wikström - played  by the doughy faced, impassive Sakari Kuosmanen - his curiously charming performance is punctuated by the occasional hint of a smile that betrays a man not as tough as he would like to seem. The refugee that Wikström takes under his wing is Khaled, a very likeable, well put together Syrian played by Sherwan Haji whose politeness in the face of I, Daniel Blake style bureaucracy is very endearing.

As one would of course expect, this one is littered with some very amusing moments. Amongst the highlights were a great sequence when Wikström decided that sushi was the right way forward for his restaurant and a brilliantly dour game of poker. What struck me above all though was how much of this comedy relied upon Kaurismäki's idiosyncratic visual style. With his satirically theatrical lighting, stubbornly static camera, and meticulously composed mise-en-scène, somewhat reminiscent of a toned down Wes Anderson, he is able to create a bizarre atmosphere that elevates the deadpan delivery of the characters. In a different setting this style of writing would risk completely alienating, but coupled with these visuals, Kaurismäki finds a strange combination that works.   

In addition to this, there are also some harrowing sequences surrounding Khaled's circumstances which mesh rather oddly with the moments of comedy. Most notable amongst these is a scene where we see Khaled playing a haunting tune on a string instrument that seems to transport other immigrants to some fond, almost forgotten memories. Combined with the absurdist comedy, Kaurismäki certainly risks undermining the emotional heft of these moments, however it often works surprisingly well. In fact, one of the best scenes in the film is also an example of the marriage of his unique brand of comedy and the political subject matter. We see Khaled and another immigrant discussing life in Finland, when Khaled is advised to smile as much as possible, "all melancholics are sent home".

Here, Kaurismäki has created a film of surprising combinations, full of as much classic Kaurismäki cynicism as sentimentalism, he shows us a world at once purposeless and kind, brimming with both melancholia and mirth, this is a likeably good natured, laconic tragicomedy. It would be fair to say that I'm looking forward to number three in the trilogy.