Steineded How sad is this?

MusicChat It's complicated... I really like the directing, acting and writing but, there are issues with the way it's shot that I just can't deny. As much as I love the storytelling and the fantastic performance but, there are also certain scenes that didn't need to exist.

FuzzyTagz If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

Griff Lees Very good movie overall, highly recommended. Most of the negative reviews don't have any merit and are all pollitically based. Give this movie a chance at least, and it might give you a different perspective.

heistad-933-254808 If you had the chance to recreate your life, would you be where you are now? The Man Without a Past, a Finnish film by writer and director, Aki Kaurismäki, allows one man to do just that— though not in the most ideal way. After being severely beaten by three heartless crooks, this man (Markku Peltola) wakes up on a beach inhabited by the homeless (and nearly homeless) without a single memory of his former life—not even his own name. This beach community of misfits, living on the Salvation Army soup kitchen, help nurse the nameless man back to health, and he begins his bewildering struggle to build an identity from nothing. As the nameless man (let's call him M) becomes friends with a man named Nieminen (Juhani Niemela), we see just how poor the people living on this beach are. Nieminen, we discover, is an alcoholic who spends more money on beer than his own children's dinner. Director Kaurismäki, however, does not want the audience to pity this community, but rather, to laugh at it. The people's reaction to M's bizarre situation, for example, is so blasé that they themselves become the ridiculous. "Oh, that's bad," replies Nieminen's wife when M explains his complete memory loss. Well, yes. It is. Though it seems strange to make light of homelessness, the humor is actually what allows the audience to see the characters as people instead of basket cases. When Nieminen says he will be offended if M refuses his offer to buy him a beer, we see that even though they are dreadfully poor, the people that live on this beach still have a deep sense of pride. As M becomes more involved in the community, he travels to the unemployment office in search of a job, as he hopes to live amongst his new friends. Kaurismäki presents a grim view of the welfare system: because he cannot provide a name for the application, M is accused of fraud and is thrown out of the employment office with no help. Kaurismäki, who worked as a post-man, dishwasher, and many other not-so-glamorous jobs before becoming a director, is sending a clear message: dignity is not determined by social class, but rather, by kindness and respect. Shortly after his run in at the employment office, M stumbles into a job at the Salvation Army when a worker named Irma (Katie Outinen) sees that he is highly capable. With his earnings he makes a home for himself in an old storage unit near Nieminen's trailer. Among his few possessions is an old jukebox that blasts 1950s rock 'n' roll music, its lively beat invigorating the slow-paced film. Now M's love interest, Irma—the shy, conservative employee at the Salvation Army who secretly listens to American hits before bed— is easily wooed by his taste in music and unabashed affection for her. Like in M's relationship with Irma, actor Peltola is able to subtly weave M's character into our hearts until, eventually, we realize we've been rooting for him all along. Outinen too is a superb actress. Though she has few lines, when her character Irma is with M, her expression perfectly conveys both the discomfort of an unfamiliar situation and a desire to know what will happen next. Irma is not the only one who M brings out of their shell. M teaches The Salvation Army band, which previously knew only one song (which was, quite simply, a drag), about the glory that is rock 'n' roll. They soon put on a show with the director of the Salvation Army, a woman we learn who has wanted to be a singer her whole life, and the whole community comes together to listen. Things take a turn for the worse for M, however, when he is a witness to a hilariously simple bank robbery: one man and his rifle. The bank clerk nonchalantly brings out the money while M just stands there obliviously. "I'm sorry I have to do this," the robber says, locking them in the vault, to which M replies that he understands given the situation at hand and not to worry about it. Like the idea of a man with severe brain damage waking up in a homeless village and starting a new life with no questions asked, it's the kind of hilarious that hits you three days later when you're brushing your teeth. Unfortunately for M, the police don't find it so funny. Kaurismäki again shows a distaste for state institutions as the police unlawfully detain M for not giving them his name. Irma comes to the rescue, sending M a lawyer who promptly gets M his freedom whose face, we discover, has been plastered across newspapers with the headline "Who is this man?" On his way back to his new home, M is told that his wife contacted the police when she saw his picture in the paper and that he can go back home. But where is home, anyway? M can take back his name, and with it his old life, or he can choose to stay with Irma and his unconventional friends. At the end of this fantastically funny film, Kaurismäki presents a dramatic ultimatum that will change everything for M, as The Man Without a Past is now the man with two futures.

Cinemucho It's a slippery film, The Man Without a Past (original title Mies vailla menneisyyttä). Not quite film noir, not quite a parody of film noir, the movie tells the story of a man who is left penniless and clueless after a group of small-time thugs beat away his memory in the outskirts of Helsinki. This Oscar nominated film and winner of the Cannes Film Festival's Grand Prix is the second movie in writer-director Aki Kaurismaki's Finland trilogy. A comedy, noir, crime film, and satire, The Man draws on a variety of different genres but doesn't fully conform to any of them, thus maintaining a sense of self-consciousness that adds a dash of playfulness to the dry-as-bone dialogue.We know almost nothing about The Man (Markku Peltola) when he first appears to us disembarking a train with a single suitcase in hand, but that doesn't really matter. For one thing, neither does The Man, as the unfortunate mugging that leaves him stricken with amnesia quietly occurs within the first few minutes of the film. For another, The Man Without a Past is all about the indomitable will to keep moving forward. It's the present that matters most and what a triumph over present challenges means for the promise of a brighter future. The film emphasizes this theme even in the very beginning of, showing The Man living moment to moment as he wakes up from his brutal beating only to pass out again in a public bathroom. A custodian eyes The Man's bloody figure sprawled on the floor and says into his walkie, "We have a dead man here." But The Man lives, although only to be pronounced dead yet again in a hospital bed. When the defeated doctor and nurse leave his side, The Man simply opens his eyes as if waking from a brief siesta and takes off...only to pass out for the final time on the bank of a river. It is obvious that, even stripped of his most essential possessions like his health and a sense of identity, The Man will not give in to misfortune. Later on, after The Man's ingenuity and hard work has resulted in a small garden of potatoes, he makes sure to save a few for the winter. He explains to his friend, "We farmers must think of the coming years, too." While only a couple months earlier he was just a nameless nomad, The Man has turned himself into a farmer with prospects for the future.Fortunately, The Man's story doesn't end on the side of a riverbank. A family of four on the outskirts of Helsinki takes him in and nurses him back to health. He becomes well enough to start living on his own in the horrendously unkempt container shed rented to him at a high price by gruff security guard, Anttila (Sakari Kuosmanen). The Man swiftly cleans up the container to create cozy home and inserts himself into the quirky community of downtrodden outsiders that includes a love interest in the form of a lonely Salvation Army soldier, a Christian band that he turns into the hottest rhythm act in the area, a lawyer with a gigantic cigar, an adorable dog named Hannibal, and the most polite bank robber ever.Aside from the oddball characters and wacky situations that The Man finds himself, the comedy of this rather dark and subdued film comes the stylized acting and dialogue that draws on the cool personas seen in film noir and movies of the French New Wave. The Man and his lady love, Irma, (Kati Outinen) move with a stilted awkwardness and stare with blank expressions ever so slightly tinged with sadness. The characters speak in short, clipped banter that exemplifies the pinnacle of deadpan humor. For instance, while cooking dinner for Irma on a date at his place, an exchange between the pair goes as follows: Irma: The peas were fine.The Man: I went to the moon yesterday.Irma: Oh. I see. How was it? In Kaurismaki's world, everything is serious but not to be taken seriously.As the film goes on, the challenges The Man faces become less significant and ever the more ridiculous. Complications from The Man's past that initially seem major enough to separate he and Irma forever turn out to be laughably minor. Although The Man Without a Past is a film in which the emotional volume is turned down, it still delivers a happy, if not heartwarming, ending, thus further deviating from the film noir mold. There's a satisfying showdown with the criminals who beat up The Man in the beginning, but this time our protagonist has the whole town to back him up. This climax signifies The Man's triumph against all odds and the power of the marginalized when they stand together. Turning to The Man after scaring away his assailants, one of The Man's rescuers says, "So you decided to come back. The Man doesn't miss a beat, deadpanning "Obviously." At this point, we should expect nothing less from The Man Without a Past.

Rebecca Lynn A touching, yet bizarre, glimpse into the life of an amnesiacAbove all, The Man Without a Past, directed by Aki Kaurismaki, is an undeniably strange movie. A nuanced, minimalistic tale about the kindness of strangers and the small joys of a difficult life, this film is an acquired taste, but certainly one worth seeing.The movie begins with The Man (played by Markku Peltola and henceforth to be referred to as M) stepping off his train and falling asleep on a park bench. He is then attacked by thugs, who steal all of his valuables and identifying information, before leaving him unconscious in a park, contents of his suitcase thrown on top of him. The hospital declares him dead ("of course he's dead, they wrapped his whole head in bandages, he can't breathe!" one of the other viewers exclaimed) but M has incredible resilience, and leaves the hospital, but not before resetting his broken nose (the whole audience screamed in disgust at this point).We soon learn that M has amnesia, and cannot remember his job, his reason for being in the city, or even his name. And unfortunately, Finland does not seem to be kind to people with no names. Try as he might, without a name, M cannot get a job, open a bank account, or get out of jail, as he might somehow be a threat to the country.The people on the outskirts of the city live in poverty, making homes out of old storage containers on a stony beach. But they make the most of the little that they have, sharing among the community. One such family finds M washed up on the beach and nurses him back to health, asking nothing in return. This kindness is casual, coming as naturally as breathing to the family. The people with the least end up doing the most to help M start a life.Going out to dinner means visiting the Salvation Army soup line. It is here that M meets Irma (played by Kati Outinen), a stony faced but sweet Salvation Army worker, who shares his love for music. M and Irma's relationship is tender and innocent. In a touching scene, Irma spreads out her small makeup collection and inexpertly applies mascara before her date with M. At his home, he prepares her dinner ("I think it's ruined already," M says after Irma offers to help him cook) and they sit together listening to rock and roll on M's jukebox. Little chemistry seems to exist between the two characters, a man with no past and a woman who has spent her whole life being emotionally closed off, but somehow, that's part of the appeal.While many films use amnesia as a tired plot device for a character to explore the mystery of his past, The Man Without a Past is just the opposite; M's amnesia presents an opportunity for rebirth. M brings life to this little, impoverished community, transforming the bland Salvation Army band into a rock band, even including the Salvation Army director as lead female vocalist. Watching M's new life unfold, we begin to realize that we don't want M to recover the past. But just as he begins to settle in, his former life comes calling back and he is forced to face his past life. M discovers the unhappiness of his former marriage, and apologizes to his ex-wife for the trouble he caused her. There's no big falling out or dramatic response (minus the strange, almost fight with the wife's new man over her honor). The interaction ends here, and M can return to his community in the city. We are happy for everyone: M, Irma, M's ex-wife, and even her new boyfriend. The film ends with a quiet sense of contentment.As my first exposure to Finnish film, The Man Without a Past was a bit difficult for me to grasp. The movie is subtle, and deeply ironic. Those uninitiated to Nordic film may find themselves in over their head. The movie's somber moments are often interrupted by outbreaks of sheer absurdity. "Do you mind if I smoke?" M asks the bank teller he is trapped in a vault with, just moments after expressing concern about running out of oxygen (What a situation!). She responds, bizarrely, with, "Does a tree mourn its fallen leaves?" Overall dialog is oddly stilted and formal, as if read off a teleprompter, and the actors don't act so much as exist, save the moments where they are dramatically staring off into the distance. This dry playfulness may end up being lost on viewers who aren't used to such a style. The Man Without a Past most definitely is not for everyone. But, viewers who want a movie that will challenge their perceptions about film while leaving them strangely uplifted, Kaurismaki's romantic drama/comedy is worth watching.

fullfemale This movie is just plain awful. There's simply nothing to grasp onto, intellectually, emotionally, or thematically. Some people say they like to "fill in" the meaning of who the characters are and what the film is about, but I think that's hard to do when you're given so little. It's a film constructed as a product of the new Cult of Mediocrity, with its virtuousness being aligned with its absence or lack of things rather than the particular presence of anything. Mediocrity has become a kind of religion in which its priests hold a position of moral superiority against anyone who insists that there is such a thing as individual greatness. Yet anyone who practices this religion is a hypocrite, as it is impossible to go through life without assigning value to things and without admiring products of individual human spirit, even if one isn't conscious of doing so. The intentional blankness of this film delights people today who are offended by the "imposition" of the ideas of an author, the craft of a director or an editor, the skills of an actor, or indeed by the offensive crime of making a good film. A bad film flatters people, as do characters who are inferior to them. But this film is universally loved because the bitter pill of politically correct drab festival fare has been lightened up by a rock and roll number here and a flat joke there. So it's a sort of repressed burlesquing of the festival film, almost a joke about festival films designed to amuse cranky jurors and audiences, and in my view nothing more than a clever balancing act. In the hyper-political film festival world, art has been replaced by politically correct self-effacement. At least a third of the comments here are by people who compare this film favorably to Blockbuster Hollywood films. Their comments reveal that they want to show that they "get it," that they know how to eschew entertainment for political correctness, that they are not like the Philistines out there who expect a movie to have a plot and characters and a point. The fact is that there are really good films out there that are not formula films with linear plots, but that do have a spiritual or intellectual or emotional center, are rigorous, and are ABOUT something. And there are also films with great artistic value that DO contain linear plots and characters. If anything this film is SIMILAR to Blockbuster Hollywood films, in its absence of meaningful motifs and its imposition of social and moral conformism.