‘fallen leaves’
Director: Aki Kaurismäki
Genre: Comedy
Year: 2023
Premiere: 12/27/23
★★★★
It’s a bright note to close the year with a film that feels both timeless and refreshingly independent. Falling Leaves speaks to movie lovers who know Aki Kaurismäki’s distinctive voice from classics like The Man Without a Past and invites new viewers to experience a cinema that is intimate, stubbornly human, and quietly daring. The film arrives with a confidence that suggests a long life on the screen, a personal letter from a filmmaker who has spent decades refining a look, a rhythm, and a way of seeing the world that few directors can claim. The result is a work that lands with a simplicity that somehow carries a depth only true artists can achieve, and it rewards patience as much as it delights immediate laughter and genuine emotion.
The film blends affectionate nods to cinema itself with a playful irreverence that keeps the mood buoyant even as it touches on heavier themes. The setting—cinema spaces, communal gatherings, and the everyday human exchange that happens before and after a screening—becomes more than backdrop. It becomes a character in its own right, a reminder that film is a social act, a shared ritual that shapes how stories are told and received. The director’s affection for the medium shines through in a way that feels almost celebratory, yet never self-indulgent. This balance allows the movie to feel both grounded and whimsically hopeful, like a late-night conversation that lingers in the mind long after the credits roll.
Falling Leaves introduces a quiet romance that grows from small, authentic moments rather than grand gestures. A supermarket worker and an alcoholic construction worker inhabit a world marked by hardship and humor, where memory and longing mingle with day-to-day grit. The film treats these elements with care, avoiding melodrama while still offering a heart that feels true and earned. Its humor rests in a minimalist sensibility that relies on what is unsaid as much as what is spoken, a signature approach that lets character and situation carry the weight. The result is a romance that feels deeply personal and unusually honest, a rare balance of charm and realism that resonates across audiences who simply want to believe in love on screen again. The performances anchor the film, delivering warmth, restraint, and a certain stoic resilience that makes the lighter moments land with a satisfying, almost musical cadence.
Visually, the film earns its applause with thoughtful color use and composition. The palette is deliberate, letting light and shade define mood and mood define character. This visual discipline aligns with a storytelling approach that avoids exposition in favor of implication, letting audiences draw connections and feel the emotional weather of the characters. The humor is both tender and sharp, a rare combination that invites laughter as a response to shared humanity rather than a punchline alone. In this way, Falling Leaves becomes not just a comedy but a study in timing, texture, and the way cinema can capture a moment of everyday life turning into something memorable. It offers a portrait of precarity and resilience that feels relevant, precise, and surprisingly uplifting for a film that does not shy away from the rough edges of its world. The result is a romance that stands out within contemporary cinema for its sincerity, its accessibility, and its willingness to celebrate the small, imperfect things that make life feel worth living. This film marks a notable addition to the canon of modern romantic comedies, admired for its originality, its quiet courage, and its undeniable heart. Aki Kaurismäki’s distinctive voice is unmistakable here, delivering an experience that is at once intimate and expansive, personal and universal, and ultimately memorable for Canadian and American audiences seeking a truthful, human-centered movie night.