Why was a Finnish ‘dark comedy’ all dark and no comedy?

I saw a Finnish film that was billed as a “dark comedy and a surreal exploration of the meaning of life”. At the end, I felt anxious and depressed. Was I cheated?
P.S., Ferny Hills, Qld

A: The general rule is, the colder the country, the more depressing the art. I once took my young kids to see a Russian circus and a clown started pulling a long rope of handkerchiefs out of his pocket and I said, “Look, kids, that’s the famous hanky trick! Pretty funny, huh?” Then the clown took the end of the long hanky-rope and tried to hang himself. But it didn’t work because there was another clown on the other end, also trying to hang himself. As Russian family entertainment goes, it was hilarious.

And because of this “cool” rule, Scandinavian art tends to be painfully depressing. Swedish films are miserably Bergmanesque. Norwegian plays are tragically Ibsenesque. Danish TV crime shows are bleakly SBS-esque. There’s always a dead woman found in the snow, but just the top half of the woman, so a Danish cop has to work with a cop from a neighbouring Scandinavian country with even colder temperatures and thicker snow and the bottom half of a dead woman.

This rule also explains why a Finnish dark comedy might be a little darker than you expected (particularly if it’s set in winter, when there’s no sunlight for three months). So no, you weren’t cheated: in a year that gave us the American comedies The Bubble and Sonic the Hedgehog 2, a Finnish exploration of the meaning of life probably has a couple more chuckles, even if the biggest laughs might be the goofy ear-flap hats that the characters wear while they openly weep about humanity’s descent into immoral chaos.

guru@goodweekend.com.au

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