On Falling Review
If you liked any of Aki Kaurismäki's films, you would love this one. It's dark, humorous, and feel so very present. I can't vouch for 'real', but every element feels relevant and trivial at the same time. Nothing's resolved. I call this 'being present.'
I went into the cinema thinking that everything would be clearly dystopian, perhaps an Orwellian or Atwood's atmosphere. Or more relevant to today's language, something like Severance, where you just know an ominous disaster is awaiting the main character somewhere and everything's going to feel off. I saw the trailer and thought, OK, someone from her past is going to reappear and destroy her routine. Or she's going to have a big internal epiphany due to meeting someone new or a disaster of some sort. Or it's going to be like Full Time (French À plein temps), where we will get to see that in fact, 'the everyday' can itself be dystopian enough without extra drama. I was expected to just feel bad for Aurora all the time. None of these happened.
Like Full Time, it also features someone whose life circumstances are not ideal. You wouldn't want to be in her shoes. But unlike Full Time, I think the director here takes a much more light-hearted approach, which, ironically, is a lot more impactful. Small humours are thrown in casually-they're not exactly 'witty' or scripted, they're just funny things we can see people do, which is the best kind of humour. Aurora's every moment, alone or not, is featured. There's no yelling or visible panicking. Due to this lack of extreme tension or 'forced' drama, it's easy to slide into Aurora's mind. Once that happens, you feel her reality a lot more closely than if you were just observing.
Then something magical happens. You won't exactly be 'rooting' for her because you don't root for yourself-you just live, like Aurora does. You also won't be figuring out the potential plot development because you're no longer detached. Instead, you simply resonate with her. You suddenly get why the Polish roommate's kindness matters so much, or why you'd want that blue eyeshadow. You feel all the awkward pauses as a first person.
The best thing about the film is just how so many moments feel unresolved. That's the genius of it. Most of our lives are fragmented and you just cannot get a resolution on everything. There are some light motifs throughout the film which give it an artistic edge, but they are again naturally thrown in and don't feel forced. Yes, of course, it's a commentary on evil corporations, but the director doesn't make it overtly political at all. I feel it's more of a character study.
The more I write, the more I realise just how ingenious and deep the film is. I think I'll watch it again.