Kaurismaki’s style remains unmistakable, but this isn’t a particularly edifying effort as two affection-shy strangers elusively seek romance and companionship in lonely Helsinki.

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Because of Aki Kaurismaki’s career-long obsession with the use of songs in his films, I was half expecting to hear the famous tune of ‘Autumn Leaves’ pop out somewhere just from the film’s title itself.  And indeed it did in Fallen Leaves, the Finnish master’s first film since The Other Side of Hope (2017). 

It may work as a no-frills introduction for those unfamiliar with Kaurismaki’s deadpan, mildly tragicomic style, but in the larger scheme of things, I consider his latest a minor effort, and at worst, inconsequential as it doesn’t quite add any real value to his body of work. 

It is still comforting in a way that a homecooked pot of soup might similarly elicit, especially how much the world has changed over the last five or so years. 

“I don’t even know your name.”

Two affection-shy strangers encounter each other at a bar one evening as Kaurismaki gives us the modest beginnings of a love story and the obstacles that befall them as they both elusively seek romance and companionship without making those feelings explicit. 

It is a restrained work, to the point that what seems like a casual everyday affair like listening to the news on the radio becomes jarring and politically pointed. 

Every time a character turns on the radio, we hear about the Russian attacks on Ukraine, including mounting civilian death tolls, and we can’t help drawing parallels with the ongoing Israeli bombardment of Palestinians. 

It is a sobering reminder of the sheltered bubble many of us live in today, whether in lonely Helsinki or mundane Singapore.  Fallen Leaves isn’t edifying ultimately, though it should pull newer Stateside audiences with its double nomination at the Golden Globes. 

Grade: B-

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