There seems to be some critical disagreement about Aki Kaurismaki’s Ariel (1988). Some critics say it is a sad film that evokes a banality of life. Netflix.com describes it as “a wry commentary on the triviality of human existence.” Others decry it as an uneven piece of work that doesn’t fully commit to this depressed projection. Roger Ebert even laments over its “happy” ending (quotes original). Most reviews focus on the fact that the film is droll, but paced in a way as to not allow any one emotion to triumph in the viewer. Some might consider this a weakness of the film, but I see it as its true triumph.
A young minor, Taisto (Turo Pajala), has little recourse after his mine is closed. His father hands him the keys to his car before he goes to the restroom of a local bar to shoot himself. Taisto’s reaction doesn’t seem to add up to much. He simply retrieves the car and begins to drive south from frozen Northern Finland, where they had worked and lived. Much is established in this early segment of the film. Taisto is not a lucky man, and his luck doesn’t look to change any time soon. The fact that he gets the car out of the garage seconds before it collapses seems to be a miracle. His reaction is minimal here as well. Does he not notice or not care? Has his life always been this way? The roof to the convertible is stuck down so he is forced to drive in the open cold, wrapping a scarf around his head as the snow falls.
Stopping for a hamburger just before Helsinki, he is beaten and mugged. Arriving penniless, he is forced to look for work on the docks. He finds a place to sleep and meets a woman (Susanna Haavisto). She sleeps with him after quitting her job on the spot for a date. She seems to have about ten other jobs to go to as well. After one night together Taisto proclaims that they will be together forever. She doesn’t protest or argue. She simply explains that she has a son. “A good head start on our family,” Tasito exclaims. Both of their worlds’ have been matter-of-fact in nature, and they instantly recognize this reality in one another.
Still searching for work and down on his luck, Taisto recognizes one of his muggers in a train station and is sentenced to a term in prison after attacking him. Though the film holds its austere tone, it changes rhythm in the prison sequences as the protagonist and his cellmate prepare plans for an escape. While these scenes are not prolonged as in Jacque Becker’s Le Trou (1960) or John Sturges The Great Escape (1963) they are almost as effective at evoking the suspense of these actions. Though they succeed in breaking free of the confines of prison, many problems await them on the outside before they can be free and clear of the long arm of the authorities.
Much has been made of how clumsy of a film this appears to be. Characters stumble, drop things, and don’t move as they do in most Hollywood films. It’s amazing how conditioned we are as moviegoers to believe that every person walks like Clark Gable, when in reality Clark Gable probably didn’t walk that way. The world is full of people who drop notes outside of banks, so why is it so hard to believe that this could happen during a bank robbery? It does in this movie, but it isn’t played for laughs. It’s funny if you think that sort of thing is funny, and not if you don’t. It’s up to you. One thing is sure though. This film wasn’t made clumsily. It is well put together, and as good of a neo noir that you will find between the early work of Goddard and the coming of Curtis Hansen. It has an ending that while it may be “happy” is just as likely as any. There are only two real possibilities when it comes to movie bank robberies. Either the guy will get away with it or he won’t. Whether you like that or not is up to you as well.
Grade: 3.5 Hats Off
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