Pre-1940 Finnish comedies have yet to impress me much quality-wise, but at least the old way of life is always interesting to see on film. Hugo Hytönen and Orvo Saarikivi's romantic comedy Miehen kylkiluu is based on the play by the famous writer Maria Jotuni, and while the movie is rather uneven, it provides a somewhat pleasant way of spending some 75 minutes.
Like many rom-coms before and after it, Miehen kylkiluu deals with criss-crossing romances, this time set in a rural Finnish village. Grumpy widower Topias (Hugo Hytönen) is looking for a new wife, while a farmhand named Tuomas (Paavo Jännes) cannot make the decision between his two female admirers, the vivacious widow Amelia (Elsa Rantalainen) and the shy spinster Miina (Verna Piponius). Tuomas is not the only one stuck between several women; the village's handsome doctor Yrjö (Kaarlo Kytö) is also trying to convince his jealous girlfriend Aina (Helena Kara) that the numerous other girls flocking around his office don't mean anything to him. One of those other girls is Elli (Sointu Kouvo), the wife of the local pharmacist Jussi (Pentti Viljanen), who in turn is friends with Yrjö and Aina.
At first the storytelling rolls forward in a painfully laborious way, theatrical and awkward due to the initial lack of accompanying music. Later on the characters start feeling worth caring about, thanks to the lovable performances of the main cast. Especially the women are a joy to watch, from the beautiful Kara and the fragile Piponius to the perky Rantalainen and the romantic Kouvo. The men do their parts pretty alright as well, at least the older actors Hytönen and Jännes whose down-to-earth romanticism is easy to root for. The roles of the younger fellows Viljanen and Kytö are less interesting, but necessary for the plot advancements.
Even though I thought many scenes are in terrible need of more music and tighter direction, the strong performances won me to their side quickly. Whenever we get to hear it, Harry Bergström's music is decent as well and so is the lake scenery (one of the strong points of almost any Finnish rural movie). In the end, Miehen kylkiluu doesn't seek to reform the art of cinema, but works better than its contemporaries within the same genre. Very light, very silly, entertaining enough – that is my verdict.
Like many rom-coms before and after it, Miehen kylkiluu deals with criss-crossing romances, this time set in a rural Finnish village. Grumpy widower Topias (Hugo Hytönen) is looking for a new wife, while a farmhand named Tuomas (Paavo Jännes) cannot make the decision between his two female admirers, the vivacious widow Amelia (Elsa Rantalainen) and the shy spinster Miina (Verna Piponius). Tuomas is not the only one stuck between several women; the village's handsome doctor Yrjö (Kaarlo Kytö) is also trying to convince his jealous girlfriend Aina (Helena Kara) that the numerous other girls flocking around his office don't mean anything to him. One of those other girls is Elli (Sointu Kouvo), the wife of the local pharmacist Jussi (Pentti Viljanen), who in turn is friends with Yrjö and Aina.
At first the storytelling rolls forward in a painfully laborious way, theatrical and awkward due to the initial lack of accompanying music. Later on the characters start feeling worth caring about, thanks to the lovable performances of the main cast. Especially the women are a joy to watch, from the beautiful Kara and the fragile Piponius to the perky Rantalainen and the romantic Kouvo. The men do their parts pretty alright as well, at least the older actors Hytönen and Jännes whose down-to-earth romanticism is easy to root for. The roles of the younger fellows Viljanen and Kytö are less interesting, but necessary for the plot advancements.
Even though I thought many scenes are in terrible need of more music and tighter direction, the strong performances won me to their side quickly. Whenever we get to hear it, Harry Bergström's music is decent as well and so is the lake scenery (one of the strong points of almost any Finnish rural movie). In the end, Miehen kylkiluu doesn't seek to reform the art of cinema, but works better than its contemporaries within the same genre. Very light, very silly, entertaining enough – that is my verdict.