If you were to list the directors whose work best reflects the intricacies of the human condition, you’d likely find Aki Kaurismäki appearing quite prominently. He is a director who has successfully turned his incredible empathy into a formidable career, crafting many charming, compelling films that are all distinct and cover different subjects but are united by the fact that they are all works that centre squarely on the human condition in its various forms. While he has undeniably been consolidated as a true master of his craft, if we voyage to the very start of his career, we find that many of the same traits that he would exhibit much later were present from the beginning, albeit in a form that was far more intimate and simple, and very rough around the edges, which gives them a rugged charm. One of his first major successes both domestically and in terms of global recognition was Shadows in Paradise (Finnish: Varjoja paratiisissa), in which he tells the story of a garbage truck driver and a grocery store clerk who meet by chance, and fall in love when they realize that they share many similar interests as well as a deep attraction to one another, defying the odds and overcoming the varying obstacles that are presented to them on an almost daily basis. It’s a beautiful, poetic comedy that finds humour in the most unexpected places and creates a deeply captivating portrait of humanity, something that Kaurismäki has frequently explored throughout his career, which started to gain momentum as a result of this film, which was perhaps the first moment he was taken seriously as a director. Beautiful and poetic, and also blisteringly funny in several moments, Shadows in Paradise is a remarkable film, with every moment containing meaning, and the overall experience being nothing short of astonishing, which is exactly what we’ve come to expect from a director with as compassionate a perspective as Kaurismäki, who has never failed to prove himself as one of our great auteurs.

As we would expect, Shadows in Paradise is a film that is based around giving us stark insights into the human condition, presented in the most unfurnished but still very distinct manner possible, which has become something of a trademark for the director. Narratively, we find many of Kaurismäki’s most notable traits being factored into the story, which centres on two profoundly lonely people – it seems like he is someone who has a lot of compassion for those members of society who are functional and works hard to earn a living, but when it comes to their social bandwidth, they are frequently at a loss, since they don’t tend to attract many people who would want to pass an evening alongside them. The characters of Nikander and Illona are fascinating individuals – they are both very good at what they do, but unfortunately are trapped in dead-end jobs where upward mobility is not only very rare but in the case that they are promoted, it barely counts as an upward step, since they will further be forced into working jobs that they radically dislike. Only through finding one another do they start to realize how they too are worthy of the same amount of love and affection as the people they observe around them during their daily routines. It’s a beautiful and poetic depiction of loneliness and the balm that comes when we encounter someone with whom we can form a genuine connection, and it makes for a truly beautiful, captivating film with a strong heart and even more immense sense of humour, the oscillation between comedy and melancholy being one of the many elements of Shadows in Paradise that keep us engaged and invested, which is all part of the experience of seeing the world through the eyes of people who may not be the most charismatic or interesting in theory, but prove to be remarkably interesting when seen through the compassionate perspective of Kaurismäki, who genuinely seems to care for his characters and their experiences.

As someone who cares as much about his characters as the situations in which they find themselves, Kaurismäki has always been a very generous director when it comes to the actors who collaborate with him. Whether working with someone for the first time or rehiring a regular collaborator, he brings so much passion to their interactions, so much that sometimes can feel like an exercise in seeing just how far he can take these characters in terms of having them run the emotional gamut – and without any doubt, Shadows in Paradise features two of his finest collaborators, coming in the form of Matti Pellonpää and Kati Outinen, who play Nikander and Illona respectively, two people who seemingly settled into their deep loneliness, but find each other by chance and discover that they may have met their soulmate, even if their cynicism constantly keeps them on edge, preventing them from falling hopelessly in love, in fear of discovering that these emotions are not nearly as authentic as they hoped. Both actors are remarkable – you would struggle to find people more suited to the director’s style than these two, and they manage to perfectly encapsulate the pitch-black sense of humour that drives this film without even the vaguest hint of pretension or self-reference, which is sometimes difficult to find with films that veer towards the satirical. This is certainly a very charming film, albeit not one that ever seems to be at a loss for ways to explore these characters beyond the obvious, which makes it such a layered, interesting work that is centred primarily on investigating the spark that exists between these two people, who prove to be extremely compelling protagonists that anchor this film and allow it to be such an intriguing, captivating document about the intricate side of human desire and psychology.

Shadows in Paradise is perhaps the first example of the deeply humane comedies that would become synonymous with Kaurismäki (he had only directed an adaptation of Crime and Punishment and a surreal dark comedy previously, neither one aligned with this specific style that we would eventually adopt as his dominant approach to filmmaking), and forms the first part of his unofficial Proletariat Trilogy, who is widely considered his defining work. Looking at this trilogy, as well as many of the other films he has made over the past few decades, we can see threads of familiarity present in all of them, in terms of both the visual and narrative components. He is a director with a strong visual style and an even more prominent set of thematic curiosities, which makes his work very distinct and instantly recognizable, as well as easily imitable, with several younger directors over the years drawing inspiration from his wonderful films – traces of his work can be found in some of his contemporaries like Jim Jarmusch and Roberto Benigni, while directors like Wes Anderson and Michel Gondry seem to have followed a similar trajectory of creating stylish but meaningful examinations of the human condition. Simplicity has never felt more beautiful than under Kaurismäki’s direction, which has always been about taking a conventional story and transforming it into something deeper and far more evocative, which is precisely why this film feels like such a major achievement in terms of both form and content, which has always been one of the many fascinating elements that drive his work. The empathy with which he approaches these characters is remarkable, and the frequent shift in tone, from outrageously funny to deeply meditative, helps shade the film, making it a far more compelling work than it may seem to be in theory, which is always a wonderful discovery to make since it usually occurs when we least expect it, which immediately makes it extremely compelling and far more enticing.

A very simple but deeply moving film about two profoundly lonely people, Shadows in Paradise immediately establishes itself as a true gem. It is not particularly long, running at a paltry 73 minutes (and thus is never at risk of overstaying its welcome), but yet it packs so much into very little time, which is one of the many gifts that the director has shown himself to possess over the years. Many aspects of this film warrant our celebration and praise, but its the unflinching honesty of its humanity that perhaps carries the most weight, which is why it is difficult to not appreciate this film for its sometimes harsh but never callous approach to looking at the lives of this people, which we soon come to discover are not entirely unhappy, but rather driven by a sense of quiet meditation, based on their position as observers of the world that surrounds them, rather than active participants. It’s a peculiar and very charming film and one that is both emotionally resonant and very entertaining. It has a lot of heart and even more, humour embedded right at its centre, which is entirely analogous with what we have come to expect from Kaurismäki, who is an astonishing filmmaker whose perspective is fresh, honest and never anything short of concise and meaningful – and while he would develop on these themes with more rigour over time, Shadows in Paradise is a wonderful opportunity for him to pioneer many of these ideas, which he does with such incredible honesty, it is not surprising that he would eventually ascend to the place of being one of the most respected auteurs in the European arthouse, and someone whose perspective is not only brilliant but entirely essential in how it captures so much nuance beneath something as simple as everyday life, a subject that has been the source of many of his greatest works.