The autumn leaves awakened by the breath of spring
In Aki Kaurismäki’s films, the protagonists are often professionals—waiters, garbage collector, drivers, pickpockets, miners, painters, watchman, and factory workers. Notably absent from his narratives are affluent or wealthy characters. However, the most compelling aspect of these heroes, emerging from the fabric of everyday society, is their pervasive alienation; they face expulsion, harassment, violence, and even incarceration. Kaurismäki categorizes individuals into three categories: the rich, the poor, and the seekers of happiness. Those in the latter category show little interest in material possessions; they are often solitary figures, unwilling to accept their fates as they relentlessly pursue happiness. Yet, their negative aspect is they lack a clear understanding of what happiness truly entails or where it might be found. Consequently, they drift aimlessly, akin to dead fish swimming downstream, surrendering to the currents of life without direction or purpose.
The director’s 2023 feature film, “Autumn Leaves,” has garnered recognition as the best film of the year by global film critics, a remarkable achievement bolstered by its triumphant reception at the Cannes Film Festival, where it secured three prestigious awards, including the Jury Prize. Despite this acclaim, it is noteworthy that the film was not nominated in any category at the Oscars, a fact that, while surprising to some, aligns seamlessly with the director’s longstanding artistic trajectory. Since beginning his career in 1981, the director has produced an impressive body of work consisting of 34 feature films, each crafted in a distinctive yet almost indistinguishable style. Nevertheless, each film captivates audiences through its unique characters, straightforward plots, and memorable dialogues. Characterized by a maximally minimalistic and laconic approach, the dialogue in his films reflects a palpable urgency, as characters strive to articulate their innermost feelings amidst the relentless tempo of contemporary life. Moreover, the choice of settings is often influenced by a sense of “greed,” with the director’s aesthetic preference serving to hold a mirror to the society from which he is a member of, thus enhancing the thematic depth of his cinematic endeavors.
In nearly all of his films, Aki Kaurismäki centers the narrative around a solitary woman and a solitary man, whose paths intersect amidst a whirlwind of events that subject them to a series of trials. These challenges ultimately draw them closer together. A distinguishing characteristic of Kaurismäki’s protagonists is their seemingly impenetrable emotional detachment; they appear utterly cold and unyielding in the face of emotions. However, beneath this veneer of stoicism lie richly complex human beings, grappling with their innermost emotions and yearning for resilience. Despite the ever-present threat of despair, they cling to a flicker of hope, refusing to succumb entirely to their struggles.
The protagonists of “Fallen leaves” are similarly characterized by their loneliness and their pursuit of happiness. Holap, a man beset by alcoholism, finds himself repeatedly fired yet remains fundamentally sincere. Ansa, a woman who has lost her job on multiple occasions due to misunderstandings, clings to the hope that happiness will eventually manifest in her future. Another striking feature of Kaurismäki’s films is the disconnection of his heroes from contemporary society. Although the events in the aforementioned film unfold in the present day, they listen to radio broadcasts detailing the grim realities of Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, bearing witness to the atrocities in Mariupol and Bucha. These current events happen around them now, yet their own conservative demeanor. For instance, after their initial casual meeting, Ansa hands Holap her phone number written on a piece of paper; their communication is facilitated by classic push-button cell phones rather than modern smartphones. Such seemingly minor details serve as hallmarks of Kaurismäki’s unique style.
At first glance, Ansa appears to be a quiet woman, yet beneath this facade lies a formidable character shaped by the myriad hardships she has endured throughout her life. On the very first day she invites Holap to her home for dinner, she candidly expresses her affection for him and demands him to cease his drinking. From this initial encounter, Ansa does not shy away from asserting herself; she speaks with unwavering frankness and demands that Holap adhere to her wishes. In response, Holap reacts defiantly, leaving her home with a declaration of his refusal to be bound by her conditions. Subsequently, he descends deeper into a life of alcoholism, grappling with a series of failures.
Ansa, becoming at peace with her fate, continues her tranquil existence, yet her burgeoning desire for dominance is subtly revealed in subsequent scenes. Ansa discovers a homeless dog on the street, brings it into her home, bathes it, adorns it with a bag around its neck, and tames it, thereby projecting her unfinished love to the animal. This act suggests that the author deliberately places the dog on an equal plane with Holap, who, much like the dog, wanders through life—lonely, loveless, and aimless.
At this juncture, it is pertinent to briefly diverge and reference the feature film “Anatomy of a Fall,” directed by Justine Triet, which won the main award at last year’s Cannes Film Festival. While Triet, adopting a feminist perspective, positions the male protagonist on par with a dog, implying a certain derision, the author of “Autumn Leaves” intimates a contrasting narrative: that a man invariably requires the presence of a woman to find purpose, and that without her, he is destined to falter. In this dichotomy, Kaurismäki portrays a woman as the crowning glory of a man’s existence, whereas Triet characterizes the male figure as the primary source of turmoil in women’s lives.
Although Ansa is depicted as a cold-blooded heroine throughout the film, subtle hints suggest that her capacity for love runs deep. Her habitual choice of seat on the bus, coupled with the recurring image of a male passenger in the back, can be interpreted as manifestations of Ansa’s imagination, conjuring thoughts of Holap. Following their first unsuccessful encounter and the subsequent acquisition of a dog, Ansa, while walking with her new companion, found the “love” of her life in the face of the dog. After the tragic accident involving Holap, Ansa finds herself on the bus once more, this time occupying a different seat alone. In contrast, the male passenger behind her embraces a woman, symbolizing a stark realization for Ansa: she has carved out her own space in Holap’s life and acknowledges the depth of his need for her care. As the narrative develops, it becomes evident that these “trio” —each ultimately discovers their respective places in life.
Holap emerges as a hero imbued with a lyrical spirit, whose journey toward self-awareness culminates in the acceptance of his own helplessness and desolation. In this moment of clarity, he ultimately “surrenders” to Ansa and quit drinking. This pivotal transformation marks a definitive turning point in his life, with the tragic event that befalls him serving as the catalyst for his metamorphosis. Following both a spiritual and physical renewal, Holap finds solace in his connection with Ansa.
The film’s title draws inspiration from the eponymous song “Autumn Leaves,” composed by the jazz musician Josef Kosman in 1945. The lyrics poignantly evoke the imagery of autumn leaves, symbolizing the inexorable passage of time and the inevitable loss of those we hold dear. Beneath the surface, the song conveys a profound message about the fleeting nature of life, urging us to cherish the people and moments that truly matter.
In this film, the protagonists find themselves oblivious to the fate that awaits them, akin to autumn leaves, adrift and tossed by the autumn wind. It is only through the transformative warmth of spring—embodied by love—that they are brought together.
Ilgar Guliyev