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Valoa Valoa Valoa ( Light Light Light 2023)


 

Light Light Light (2023)
THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF YOUTH – AND ITS WEIGHT

Haruki Murakami once wrote in Norwegian Wood:
"No wisdom can heal sorrow. That kind of sorrow is beyond wisdom, honesty, strength, or kindness. We can only grieve it to the end and learn something from it..."

A small village somewhere in Finland. The year is 1986, and Chernobyl looms in the background. There is Mariia, and Mariia’s family. Then Mimi arrives in town — with her own family. Due to a misunderstanding, Mariia and Mimi become friends.
The film is based on Vilja-Tuulia Huotarinen’s award-winning young adult novel of the same name, which won the Finlandia Junior Prize in 2011.

Coming-of-age stories in cinema have always fascinated me. Films like Tapio Suominen’s Täältä Tullaan, Elämä (1980), Larry Clark’s stark Kids (1995) and Ken Park (2002), or, more recently, Jonah Hill’s empathetic debut Mid90s all come to mind.

A similarly empathetic approach is taken here by director Inari Niemi and co-writer Juuli Niemi, who have adapted the book for the screen. Light Light Light is a story about the friendship, love, and everyday lives of two girls — and one formative summer. At the same time, it’s also a story about a dysfunctional “family,” about indifference and emotional neglect.
This is the crossroad where the vitality and lightness of youth collide with the absence and obliviousness of adults — who neither see the present nor foresee the future... nor much of anything at all.

Light Light Light doesn’t preach, doesn’t underline its points until exhaustion — in fact, it doesn’t at all. It simply shows — as a good film should.
The ethereal compositions by Joel Melasniemi blend seamlessly into the tone and rhythm of the narrative.

"I'm just so tired and tired and tired..."

Though the film is rooted in empathy, and perhaps even hope, at its core lies tragedy — a theme that always remains relevant in cinema. Despite their young age, Rebekka Baer (Mariia) and Anni Iikkanen (Mimi) deliver their roles with remarkable ease and professionalism.
There is space left between the lines, allowing the film to flow from beginning to end as a multidimensional pastiche on the meaning of existence — as well as its brutal consequences and pain points.

"Somewhere nearby, people still live. They fry potatoes and subscribe to newspapers, just like we do. They and their children have survived accidents. They plan to go on living. They breathe God’s air and radiate light, light, light — which is called the will to live."
— V.T. Huotarinen

The film is available to rent on YouTube


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