Why the correct translation for Aki Kaurismäki’s ‘Fallen Leaves’ gives the film a whole new meaning
I first watched Aki Kaurismäki’s Fallen Leaves on a cold winter day in London, shortly after learning I was being evicted. It was the only thing capable of warming my embittered soul in that moment. When I returned home for the holidays, I convinced my Finnish father to join me at the local Picturehouse to see it again. We found the film hilarious, though it became clear just how specific Finnish humour can be when we realised we were the only ones laughing at most scenes. My dad, as it turned out, had gone to primary school with one of the actors in the film. Then he dropped a revelation that left me unsettled: the correct English translation of the title was something entirely different, recasting the film in a whole new light.
There’s an old Finnish joke that you can only tell if a Finn has a crush on you if they are looking at your shoes more than their own, which is perhaps the best way to describe the love affair between the central characters in Fallen Leaves. The film is a modern love story set against the backdrop of a frosty and unforgiving Helsinki, following Ansa and Holappa, who fall in love after a chance encounter at a karaoke bar but struggle to meet again after a series of mishaps and obstacles get in their way.
It’s delightfully odd and whimsical, marked by Kaurismäki’s deadpan humour as the characters joke about the bleak mundanity of their existence and the pains of existence within the capitalist machine. Everything always seems to go wrong, with the character battling against the cruelty of a world that views people as a means of production and dehumanises the working class, slowly stripping away any joy from their lives. Life for Ansa and Holappa is difficult, but when they meet, it makes their cold world seem a little warmer – their world is better when they have someone to share it with, which is what makes their connection so precious. Without the people in our lives, there wouldn’t be much to live for.
It’s a surprisingly optimistic message for Kaurismäki (who is sometimes known as the king of cynicism) and given that he announced he was quitting filmmaking entirely six years ago and then returned for this film, it makes me wonder what happened in those years away that made him come back for this story. But perhaps, the correct English translation of the film reveals a little bit more about this.
Apparently, the film’s title directly translates to ‘dead leaves’ and not ‘fallen leaves’, which I believe offers more insight into Kaurismäki’s intentions behind the project. Fallen leaves imply something that is changing and growing, bringing connotations of new life and a fresh start. The film ends with the couple walking through the golden leaves in the park, finally together, chasing after their new dog. It adds an optimistic undertone to the story, telling us that hope is not lost and that we will always be offered a chance for renewal, that even among the chaos of modern life, love is what makes it all worth it.
But the idea of dead leaves implies a more cynical undertone: that while this couple has found each other, their attempt at happiness is ultimately futile because the difficulties of working within the Capitalist machine will destroy it. There is no chance at a better life because hope is ultimately dead and forever in vain. This feels more in line with the messaging of Kaurismäki’s other films, which often critique Capitalism and depict characters who are attempting to assert their personhood outside of their work.
While the love story at the heart of Fallen Leaves elevates its eternal sense of dreariness, the time that both characters spend away from each other shows how depressing their life is without this romance, and their connection to each other is their only lifeline and opportunity for fulfilment. Because of this, Fallen Leaves is ultimately a tragedy, and the translation to Dead Leaves exposes the bleak reality of this world. According to Kaurismäki, the leaves have not fallen – they are dead, and not even the promise of new life and love can save us from a thankless modern world.
