Review of Le Havre (2011) by Kevin N — 25 Feb 2012

Aki Kaurismaki loves people; he always has. His films are about normal people, average Janes and Joes who take their situations into their own hands and control their own destiny, and sometimes this leads to happy endings and sometimes it doesn't- but it always leads to change, a rupture in normality.

This, his newest film, is perhaps his most rewarding in that it centers around not one ambitious character but a community of them, all fighting for the same thing. In it, a man named Marcel Marx (Andre Wilms) discovers a runaway illegal immigrant named Idrissa (Blondin Miguel).

Idrissa is quite young, probably twelve or thirteen, and he does not plan on sticking around. His goal is to pass through to London, but with the French authorities after him, he doesn't stand much of a chance on his own.

Sound familiar? Sure, this is Kaurismaki's version of 'Casablanca' (its plot even depends on an authority figure with a meltable heart), but it is so simple and fable-like that the story only seems like an excuse for the characters, all of whom are a delight.

Kaurismaki is known for his deadpan, and he is successful because he knows when a human face will do ten times the work of a page of dialogue. The faces we meet here tell this story, give us clues to actions before they happen.

Marcel's wife, played by Kaurismaki regular Kati Outinen, is a complete enigma, and I think her storyline holds some of the greatest puzzles of the film- puzzles that will never be definitively solved because they are formed in glances, not in voice.

In a way this feels like a departure for the great director, whose works generally seem more biting and critical to me. While this movie revolves around one of the world's heaviest political issues, Kaurismaki goes at it in an innocent and apolitical manner.

He shifts his focus away from both sides of the immigration issue and instead looks at one instance as its own case. He portrays a group of people who see something wrong and use their power, however seemingly limited, to change it.

The result is engaging, heartwarming cinema which feels old and new in all the right places.