Lauri-Matti Parppei’s A Light That Never Goes Out world-premiered in the ACID section at the 78th Cannes International Film Festival. Since then, this little Finnish musical comedy-drama has steadily got more and more exposure, playing at festivals in Bucharest, Reykjavik, Riga, São Paulo, Thessaloniki and, just last week, in Göteborg’s Nordic Lights section, where it perfectly belongs. It also opens in French cinemas this week, courtesy of Les Alchimistes.

Twenty-nine-year-old music prodigy Pauli Paavilainen (Samuel Kujala) is not in a happy place – in this case, the metropolis of Helsinki, where he’s done well as a philharmonic flautist on one of the grand stages. But some kind of nervous breakdown has clearly occurred, as Pauli’s now heading back to his parents’ place in his childhood town of Rauma, by the Gulf of Bothnia, flute in hand (and nothing else). He’s booked for a local performance, but instead of practising, he decides to smash the precious instrument. Instantly regretting it, he visits the local music repair store, where he bumps into Iiris (Anna Rosaliina Kauno), his old schoolmate, who herself doesn’t shy away from treating her instruments with brutality, albeit slightly more creatively.

“I want to make something no one’s heard before,” she says at a party she’s brought Pauli to, despite neither of them having been invited. “Something that mankind isn’t ready for.” So, Pauli and Iiris become bandmates, utilising vintage synthesisers, distorted guitars, and the occasional electric whisk or coat hanger. Pauli sometimes plays wearing a blindfold. Iiris makes up dogmas. One of them reads: “We’re not a band.” Be that as it may, the friends play on, expanding the line-up and even turning up at the local concert that Pauli’s been booked for, performing straight after a romantic string duo. Pauli hasn’t brought his flute... On the other hand, he does seem to feel less broken as time goes on.

Parppei’s charming script is so densely loaded with deadpan humour that even Aki Kaurismäki may have met his match, but he also brings in a playful tenderness that his great fellow countryman is further removed from. If any Nordic colleague should come to mind, it’s the sweeter side of Lukas Moodysson, the one found in We Are the Best! [+lire aussi :
critique
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fiche film] – which, incidentally, also centres around music and playing, at times rather less prettily. That being said, the musical concepts here are quite intricate and compelling, proper avantgarde, as it were, for fans of Captain Beefheart and the likes (also, everyone on screen actually plays; no dubbing here). Creating a heartfelt feelgood story around such a cacophony sits well – really well.

A Light That Never Goes Out felt like a true gem already at its Cannes premiere, and some who caught it back then even put it in their top-ten list of the year. Seeing it still travelling on should bring hope, not least for more works from this young Finnish auteur, who balances darkness and light, is clearly very fond of his actors and is no stranger to strangeness. Did we mention the blue Alsatian that glows in the dark?

A Light That Never Goes Out was produced by Finland’s Made and Norway’s Good Time Pictures. Its sales are handled by Patra Spanou Film.