Ariel

We've talked about a lot of quality films thus far, spanning a lot of different genres, movements, methods, and time periods. Today though, we're dipping our toes into something new and from a country we haven't yet explored. We're exploring a director I discovered almost by accident who is effortlessly original. A movie that is steeped in dry humor, drenched in irony, all to a soundtrack of polka music by a visionary from Finland.

So if you're like me and you enjoy film and the impact and emotions they convey, then grab a glass of your preferred liquid and join me for the next little while. For me, that's a glass of bourbon from our friends at Buffalo Trace in Kentucky. So sit back, relax, and let's talk about the love of film. Welcome to Glazed Cinema.

Our subject today opens in a rather conspicuous way as the first thing we see is a yellow metal staircase set against a cold grey cement wall and floor. The sound of a deep whistle of wind can be heard permeating the emptiness. Soon footsteps are heard as two men emerge from the unseen lower level as an alarm sounds as they turn to continue upward. As the latter becomes fully visible and turns off the lights below the title of our film flashes in red font. As they reach they top we see several other men huddled around another on his knees, twisting an explosive device until a loud boom can be heard from the bellows below. One by one the men turn and begin walking toward a large opening emanating daylight into the darkness. As quickly as they emerge into the snow covered outside a parade of cars leaves the coal mine plant behind as the doors behind them close for the final time.

Shortly after that in a diner and to the dulcet tones of Finnish polka the two men, father and son, discuss their next steps. In that conversation, the father urges his son, Taisto, our main character, to go to the city for work and gives him the keys to his car. Shortly afterward, the older gentleman proceeds to go into the bathroom and through his own actions never re-emerges. Taisto then goes to retrieve the car from his father's home, which is parked in a small shack like garage. As a big man, he has to meander his way in, but lucky, because it's a convertible isn't so hard to do. As the vehicle pulls away, the garage collapses behind it in the absence of what once was as he leaves the life he knew for a new one in the city. Heeding his friend's advice, Taisto ventures into Helsinki in search for work and there he meets a metermaid named Irmeli. After some brief flirting she throws away her tickets and they ride off together back to her place. As things are looking up for him, more hardships will soon arrive, testing Taisto's limits, which will involve prison, a large wooden mallet, and an ocean liner.

Ariel is directed by Aki Kuarismaki and is a wonderful mix of dry humor, melancholy, irony, and bad luck. One thing I really enjoy about Kaurismaki is that the majority of his movies, including our subject today feel very real and tangible. With the Finnish director's works you'll find things you won't find out of efforts from other filmmakers. One of the reasons why this is has to do with him embracing the characters as they are. We see their clumsiness, awkwardness, and their unsureness. Gone is the perfection we see time again in Hollywood, here we see people for how people are and I love it so much. The humor of his films echoes the humor of the man. If you've heard or read interviews with him he has a muted humor himself that make me giggle.

Ariel follows a man named Taisto, played by Turo Pajala, based within a small town in Finland. Ariel is one third of Kaurismaki's Proletariat Trilogy. Proletariat means working class and within the three films we follow three very different people through events of their lives. The three films are non-linear and at surface level don't seem to have any ties, but their are common themes which connect them. Revealing one of them though, I would consider a spoiler of Ariel, so I will refrain from doing so.

The man we follow throughout the film, Tasito, is inflicted by bad luck. Even if not afflicted himself, it seems the people around him are also affected by it. If you've heard misery is my company, it's kind of like that, but in misery's place lies misfortune. Despite this, the movie is extremely well-balanced, playing into the darkly comical plot. Turo Pajala does a great job as Taisto, playing him with a calm seriousness. The female lead, Irmeli, played by Susanna Haavisto, does equally well, matching that energy, but injecting the tiniest bit of playful energy, which is leveled off by her indifference.

There is romance injected into the plot between Irmeli and Taisto, but it too is non-emotive a lot of the time. That does not mean there's no emotion or feally between the two, it's just muted, but still apparent. In fact, that's one thing there isn't a lot of here, which is emotive energy. Each performer delivers with a hushed sense about everything, almost as if Stephen Wright was helping to write the dialogue and delivery. There's nothing extra here, no fluff, it's as it was intended and it's beautiful.

The star of this movie, at least for me is Kaurismaki's regular Matti Pellonpaa. Here he plays Mikkonen, who is an interesting character of few words. We first meet him when Taisto is put in a cell with him after entering prison. The two are unsure of each other at first and don't say anything to one another, they just stare, observing their counterpart. Mikkonen, sitting at a table with one hand holding a cigarette and the other gripping hand crunchers. As he puts his cigarette out in the ashtray he slides on his dark rimmed glasses to get a better look at his new cellmate. Soon the silence breaks as Mikkonen holds up his hand slightly to Taisto and squeezes the crunchers in a peculiar way, as if using them to speak. I love Pellonpaa in everything I've seen him in and love his delivery and acting style. For me has a magnetism that can't be denied, he steals almost every scene he's in.

Ariel was released in 1988 and crazily enough, Kaurismaki wrote the entire script in a matter of days, but it feels quite the opposite while viewing the final product. In terms of how I discovered this film, I truly stumbled upon this movie and Kaurismaki, but I'm so glad I did. I actually bought the Proletariat Trilogy after reading about it and watched the first movie, titled "Shadows in Paradise" and absolutely adored it. It was my first exposure to Kaurismaki, Finnish cinema, and Pellonpaa. When I moved to the next movie in the series, Ariel it somehow got better. I was really taken by this unique voice and enjoyed the stories he was telling and how he orchestrated the events to unfurl.

One of the things that stuck with me about this movie was the irony that just oozes through a lot of scenes. As an example, when Taisto gets to Helsinki he struggles to find a job despite applying to a lot of places hiring. Meanwhile his girlfriend has so many jobs that as more are revealed it becomes comical. There's also a running bit within the movie revolving around the convertible's top as Taisto cannot seem to figure out how to put the top up. We see him driving and doing everything he can to stay warm, including driving with a babushka around his head as he has the top down in the Finnish winter. The bit ends in one of the greatest scenes of the movie, which to me embodies the pinnacle of dry dark humor. It's pure gold and I so wish I could say more as I love the scene in question so much, but our spoiler-free beliefs make this an impossibility, so you'll just have to trust me, it's pretty great.

If you're interested in watching something new and different, try Aki Kaurismaki's Ariel a try. It's got a lot of meat on the bone within its seventy-two minute duration and in my opinion is one of the director's best efforts. You'll find a lot here to keep you interested and some great moments to beckon you back for more. I could keep talking about this movie and why you should watch, but better yet, watch Ariel for yourself and you can experience all of its splendor.

If you'd like to watch Ariel for yourself you can find it exclusively on The Criterion Channel. The Criterion Channel is a streaming service with tremendous value for any current or bourgeoning or current film fan from our friends at The Criterion Collection. Pricing tiers include $10.99 per month or $99 per year, which is what I chose to do.

If you like this podcast tell your friends and follow us on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Each week there will be new content including hints about episodes before they air. If you'd like to learn more about the podcast, visit our website at glazedcinema.com. There you'll find more info about the show and a place to submit ideas for future episodes. For film fans who are hearing impaired the blog page on our website features each episode in written form as well. As always, thanks for listening and I hope to see you next time with another beverage and another fine film on Glazed Cinema.