Cannes Review: Lights in the Dusk

Not to sound too self-deprecating, but going to Cannes will invariably make you feel acutely self-conscious of how much you don't know about world cinema. Case in point: A friend who knew about my heading to this year's festival said "Oh, exciting -- you get to see the new Kaurismäki ... " and I sort of agreed, trying to conceal my ignorance with reflected enthusiasm. A brief bit of research brought Aki Kaurismäki's resume back to the forefront of my brain -- a Finnish writer-director, he's perhaps best known for the 1989 comedy Leningrad Cowboys Go America. Playing as part of the official competition selection here in Cannes, Kaurismäki's Lights in the Dusk wound up being a surprising highlight -- a perfectly-pitched deadpan existential comedy shot with style and meticulous timing, helped along by performances from actors perfectly in tune with the sensibilities of the material.

Koistinen (Janne Hyytiäien) works as a security guard; he walks his route clad in his uniform, making sure the city's supermarkets and streets are safe, a stoic face peering into the night. Koistinen seems like an odd man out; his supervisors harass him, and his co-workers leave en masse after work for a drink without inviting him. Koistinen's face tells you he's been through this before; he expects it. One night, a beautiful woman named Mirja (Maria Järvenhelmi) approaches him and asks him out; they have an evening together, and although his face doesn't show it (indeed, his face rarely shows anything) Koistinen can't believe his good fortune. ...
But it's not good fortune. A local crimelord, Lindström (Ilkka Koivula) is using Mirja to set Koistinen up. First, they'll use his keys from his route to commit a series of thefts -- and then he'll be the fall guy, set up by a pretty face and a plan. Lights in the Dusk feels like a homage to film noir in many ways -- the plot, the retro-styled sets and costumes, Lindstrom's too-perfect suits and calculating demeanor -- but it's also a comedy. Not a setup-punchline comedy, but a subtle and insidious one, that wrings laughs from timing, glances, moments, matter-of-fact statements.

The cast are all superb, combining archetypal crime-film roles with the slow-boil wit of Kaurismäki's approach and style. Still, special credit has to go to Hyytiäien's performance as Koistinen. Magnetically silent, perpetually put-upon, Koistinen's a true character - and while we don't get to know a lot about him, we do get a great understanding of what makes him tick.

Many people will find Koistinen's passivity infuriating -- even after he knows what's coming, he never moves to dodge it -- but that's part of the film's charm. Like all the great silent comedians -- Keaton, Chaplin, Lloyd -- Hyyiäten knows that now and then, you have to take the pie in the face (whether literal or metaphorical) to get the moment perfect. Also, Kurismäki's script pretty much makes the point that Koistinen fits into other people's plans pretty much perfectly because he lacks one for himself -- not really starting his new career, not reciprocating the gentle-yet-persistent advances of the local snack truck operator Aila (Maria Heiskanen), not fighting back against fate.

Lights in the Dusk is also gorgeously, perfectly shot; every scene has a rich, bold color palate, and Kaurismäki has a true gift for capturing small, still moments as well as the crowded concrete crush of modern urban life. Lights in the Dusk has a glimmering darkness to it, and it shines with the light of real brilliance.