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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