Film Review : 'The Other Side of Hope' by Ari Kurismaki

I’m an immigrant.

So whenever I watch a movie about people like me, I look pretty hard to see if it knows anything about what it’s talking about, and doesn’t resort to cheap melodrama, or strike other sorts of false notes, in order to achieve some contrived effect or another.

You won’t find any of that in Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki’s The Other Side of Hope.

What you will find is an off-the-wall drollness as a response to the crippling problems of forced immigration, as Old Europe’s foundations crumble, and it hangs on to obliviousness in the face of political reality.

The movie features two protags. One is an over-the-hill shirt salesman from Helsinki named Wikström (Sakari Kuosmanen), who separates from his drunkard, sullen wife -- her face ravaged by the years -- leaving his wedding ring before her on their tacky kitchen table, where she’s smoking cigs and sipping from a glass of liquid desperation. Impassively, his wife drops Wikström’s ring  into the ashtray before her, as he slams the door shut on their marriage. The other main character is Khaled (Sherwam Haji), a refugee from Aleppo, who’s been on the run in Europe with his sister ever since the Syrian war vaporized his life. We first see him as a Buster Keaton stowaway, and then as someone who’s mission in life is focused on finding his sister (they were separated somewhere on the trail of endless European border refugee camps), but who views his own ultimate destiny as inconsequential.

Perhaps the true stars of this delightful film are the supporting cast. These are the quietly hysterical, underpaid employees at the restaurant Wikström ends up buying. He does this after risking the proceeds of selling his shirt business on an after-hours, five-stud poker game with some fairly unsavory, no-limit types. There’s the long-haired, dog-faced Maitre D’; a youngish, overweight blonde waitress; and a chain-smoking cook, who knows little about his trade, and cares even less.

The low-key, baroque,  but intensely funny changing restaurant theme set pieces in the middle of this movie (which had the Gouna Film Festival audience I was watching with in stitches), as well as the High German, low rent, back room schnapps vibe of much of this film has reminded some of Fassbinder. The DP work, in particular, does bear homage. But the difference here is Kaurismäki’s far lighter, less overbearing directorial touch.

There are some flaws.

The Liberation Army of Finland plays a leaden role in leading this film down as somewhat predictable outcome; and Khaled’s Iraqi refugee friend, Mazdak (Simon Al-Bazoon), and his sister (whose performance is overly muted, if not wooden), are less successfully realized than I might have hoped.

A highlight of this film was the bar and street music.  The numbers played by a lead busker and a changing assortment of aging, backup musicians were remarkably engaging, and I particularly appreciated some of the sly lead guitar work on several songs.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film, and gave it a 4 on the ratings card on my way out.

~ aly