- The Man Without a Past
10/1/23 (Sun)
This 2002 film is the second in Kaurismäki’s so-called Finland/Loser Trilogy. The films are only loosely tied together by theme; I accidentally watched the third one before this, but it didn’t really matter. Actually it seems that any of his films can fall into this category, so not sure what prompted the trilogy label.
A respectable looking man gets off a train in the lesser parts of Helsinki and is promptly mugged in a park by a group of thugs, who steal everything from his briefcase other than a welder’s helmet, the only hint as to his identity. He is beaten so severely that the doctor at the hospital tells the nurse just to let him die if he becomes a problem.
Suddenly the man, bandaged like a mummy with only eyes showing, returns to life. He pops up, twists his broken nose back into place, and leaves the hospital. The problem is that he has no memory of who he is – his name, his address, his entire past. Known only as M, the man with no identity finds himself in an area of cargo containers being used as homes, where one family, unable even to see his face, takes him in out of pity. After they nurse him to health and get the bandages off, he decides to rent a container of his own. However, with no name or possessions, he is unable to get a loan or job.
He finally gets work with the Salvation Army, where he falls for one of the women. He convinces the army musicians to take up more popular music and becomes a manager of sorts. He also finds a job as a welder, work he instinctively recalls. His newfound contentment is threatened when he visits a bank and unwittingly becomes involved in a robbery by a man seeking to steal his own funds (the man wants the money to pay his employees – it’s complicated). The police eventually discover M’s identity, revealing to him that he is married. When he returns to his wife and what appears to have been a fairly successful life, he learns that she had thrown him out because of gambling issues. Her new boyfriend becomes testy at the appearance of the legal spouse, but the latter happily gives the wife away. He returns to his Salvation Army lover and, in a nice happily-ever-after ending, we see them walking away, disappearing as a train crosses the screen.
The director’s trademark deadpan style gets a bit old here, especially for the lead. The character’s reticence becomes irritating at a certain point, especially in simple exchanges where a “hello” or “thank you” or similar greeting would be easy enough without interrupting the flow. The artifice stands out in a bad way. The script is helped by clever dialogue, though the Japanese subtitles didn’t catch the wit at all.
M: I went to the moon yesterday…
Irma: Meet anyone?
M: Not really; it was a Sunday.
M: What do I owe you?
Electrician: If you ever find me face down in the gutter, turn me around to my back.
The music is a key part of the film and well chosen. One of the only objects that M puts in his container home is an old jukebox that he has rehabilitated, and the Salvation Army lady has a secret love of rock & roll that she indulges in after work. The Salvation Army band’s switch from dour religious numbers to more popular numbers at M’s urging is a key plot point, and their numbers are highly attractive as with most of Kaurismäki’s films. Most notably, famed Finnish singer Annikki Tähti performs her old hit “Do You Remember Monrepos”, which wistfully recalls an area of the country that somehow ended up in the USSR. It is a beautiful number that fits the theme of memory and identity. I’m not sure what the Japanese number “Hawaiian Night” (ハワイの夜) is doing in there, but it was just another oddity of many.
The trilogy offers diminishing returns (in order of release, as it happens) once we’re used to the director’s style. Still, this film has its moments and is worth a watch.