In Fallen Leaves, Alma Pöysti has to do a lot with a little. Her character, a supermarket drudge named Ansa, wears an impassive gaze and tends not to say much. During Ansa’s bus rides to and from work, director Aki Kaurismäki trains his camera on Pöysti’s face, asking us to read between the lines of her subtle expressions. Holappa (Jussi Vatanen), the man who slowly, tentatively courts Ansa after encountering her at a Helsinki karaoke bar, says even less. They are lonesome souls, thrust together amid the deadening cadence of modern existence — if they can figure each other out.
Pöysti’s enchanting performance in the droll Finnish comedy, which premiered at Cannes and is a likely contender for the Oscars’ Best International Feature Film category, recently earned her an unexpected Golden Globe nomination. (See her charming reaction video here.) The 42-year-old actress has worked primarily in Finland, most notably portraying author and illustrator Tove Jansson in the 2020 biopic Tove. Now she’s gaining a more global audience with what is proving to be the biggest breakout of her career thus far, helmed by one of cinema’s greats. “It’s incredible to see that a small, shy little love story from this strange country up in the north of Europe can reach people,” Pöysti says. “That’s very touching.”
Your nomination was one of the Golden Globes’ most pleasant surprises. Was any part of you hoping for this?
No, I could never have anticipated this. It’s really fantastic. I mean, there was a small hope, maybe, that the film would make it to the foreign nominations. I was in Paris doing interviews for another film that’s opening there soon, and then someone came in and said, “Oh, the Golden Globes are in and you’re on the list.” I said, “Okay, yes, cool, the film’s on the list.” Then I got out of the interview and realized that it’s me as well. That was really kind of surreal.
I understand that Aki discouraged rehearsals and wanted to do a single take whenever possible. Did your and Jussi’s dry deliveries come from your familiarity with his work, or was there some sort of discussion that unlocked that tone?
Since we both grew up in Finland and we’re actors, we’ve been under the influence of Aki Kaurismäki our whole lives, basically. When you get asked to join one of his movies, you kind of know what the tone is. But then you have to discover, of course, your own way of being there and calibrating yourself and your instrument to his universe and aesthetics. It was fairly simple in that way. I mean, there were many things that were hard with the job, but we had to just be as honest and pure as possible. When you have such a wonderful co-star, it’s really nice to just discover these scenes and have fun with the awkwardness and shyness of the characters. You trust Aki because he’s so exact.
What was this experience like for you before the first take on the first day?
Anticipation was high. He told us not to rehearse, but that doesn’t mean you can’t prepare. You just have to be somewhat clever about it. I rewatched all of Aki’s movies. Somehow it felt like our film is linked to the others. It’s not to copy what people have done before, but Ansa could be a distant cousin to some other role that he’s created, so it’s to get the same language going. Then I went to work in those places where Ansa is working. I was at the bar and I was at the supermarket and in the factory, just to get them in my system in a credible way. There was such a high level of concentration on the set because we only had one take and everyone had to get it right on that take. You usually talk about daring to fail, and that will give you discoveries. But here, you really have to dare to succeed.
Given the nature of that one-take ideal, did Aki walk you through his expectation or through the technical aspects before each scene?
We went through the rhythm. It’s essential for his work to get the rhythm right. It was the most minimalistic rehearsals because we saved all that you could call “life” for the camera. We went through where to look, when to walk, how to walk, and also to get the rhythm with the camera and the lights and the props. Everything needs to work in that one take. What I really enjoyed was that I was there on the set. When we were lighting, for example, I just sat there and calibrated myself into the frame. I discovered some kind of meditation that really helped everybody because then it’s the right face that gets lit. It’s an ensemble that’s technicians and actors. You don’t make a distinction between the team and the cast, and I really like that.
Would you say you were in character in those moments?
I would say it was the actor charging, tuning in, calibrating. It’s like an instrument in an orchestra that’s tuning before you play.
Was there a scene where you requested a second take?
No. I needed to trust Aki, and if he was happy, then it was good. He was there all the time right beside the camera. He didn’t use a monitor, which was astounding. He wasn’t somewhere far away looking at the frame. He was sharing the same space as the rest of us, and I knew that if he knew it was right, then it was right.
I want to talk about filming the silences. You’ve said in other interviews that silence is a very comfortable Finnish concept. With the dinner scene at Ansa’s, for example, you have a conversation where so few words are actually exchanged. I don’t know how you find the rhythm of that in only one take.
Yeah, it’s one of my favorite scenes. It was hilarious to shoot it because, oh my goodness, these two have so much at stake in that scene. She has a second plate, he has bought flowers, they finally meet after all of these misunderstandings. And they’re not really used to dating at all. They have this concept, I guess, of how you should behave when you’re having dinner with someone, but I don’t think either one of them has done it — perhaps ever, or for a very, very long time, so everything is awkward. The actor inside of you is doing cartwheels because it’s such a delicate scene. Everything is so important. The sound each fork makes against the plate — that’s the dialogue right there. Every look that you dare to give the other one is so charged, so you’re really walking on eggshells in the most beautiful way. I would compare it to jazz. You just keep daring to drag out those silences and those awkward moments. How much can we make them count? It takes some courage because you get so embarrassed as well. Suddenly these shy people are seen, so one very human thing would be to rush in that moment. But you try to stretch it.
Was there ever a moment where you just had to laugh?
No, we were able to keep it together. Then, when someone said “kiitos,” which means “thank you,” the whole room exploded. If we would have started to laugh, we would have broken that very delicate atmosphere that we built for hours. It’s not worth it.
When Ansa turned on the dial on the radio, were you actually listening to the news broadcasts we hear in the film?
Yes, sometimes, but they were all in the script, so I knew exactly what she was listening to. Sometimes we couldn’t have it on for technical reasons.
One thing I think we’re all processing is the psychic toll of these terrible world conditions. Do you think the news of the Ukrainian war does something for her state of mind?
Yeah, for sure. I think it works on many levels, actually. There’s the real-life level: It reminds us what’s going on, this terrible aggression. But the characters are living in this kind of fairy tale where there is a war going on. It’s not where they live, but it’s fairly close and serves as a reminder of how fragile life is. It could be us in a heartbeat, so what are you going to do about your day? Are you going to take the risk of falling in love? It gives you a sense of carpe diem, to use a cliché. The film is like a time machine as well, so when people watch it in the future, they’ll be reminded of what was going on. And Ansa and Holappa are aware. They are following society. It’s a kind of responsibility as a citizen to be aware of things. That was a position from Kaurismäki about these people: They’re not lazy in terms of the world.
They may be isolated, but they haven’t totally checked out. They’re processing reality at this particular moment. Did Kaurismäki tell you why he chose The Dead Don’t Die as the movie Ansa and Holappa go to see?
Not really, but Jim Jarmusch and him have been linking to each other forever. They’re these cinematic buddies. I’ve been thinking with Jussi that maybe it’s like a test. Holappa tests Ansa to see if she’s wife material, if she can handle the movie. That’s our own theory.
Did you divine any specific meaning from the collection of posters that they stand in front of when she gives him her number? In between The Dead Don’t Die, we see Brief Encounter and Contempt, two very different relationship dramas.
All the time, there are these hidden gems there, and he’s linking to his cinematic gods. You also have a big poster of Bresson’s L’Argent, and there’s this concept of money and capitalism and exploitation as a theme in the movie. And then is it going to be Brief Encounter, or is it going to be more? Or you have Pierrot le Fou, when you’re just somehow a fool for love. There are these small comments and hints about the characters, pushing them a little bit, if they know how to see it. What I do like about Aki’s way of having these small gems there is that it’s not a snobbish thing. If you get it, you get it. But you don’t have to get it.
The reference is not the point. It’s just a little visual comment or in-joke.
And they don’t exclude anyone. The ending scene is straight from a Chaplain film, and you have the metaphor of Modern Times going on throughout the movie, I would say. There are multiple dialogues, which is quite fun to discover.
Speaking of Chaplain, I must ask about the charming dog you got to befriend and work with. I know that’s Aki’s actual dog, which I’m sure helped in terms of having a good scene partner. What was Chaplain’s real name, and how did you bond?
It must be fate because her name is Alma as well.
Oh my gosh!
It’s quite a coincidence. Or is it a coincidence? I don’t know. I guess it’s a sign. We got along so well. We were playing around a lot before we started to shoot. I visited her and always got her some treats. It just turned out that she’s a fantastic actress, and very professional. She’s got a really high level of concentration. This is her debut, but she has a sense of rhythm. She was making these very strong artistic choices that were completely independent. If you’re the director’s dog, you can get away with stuff like that.
Do you have an example?
When she’s sitting on the bed and she goes to lay down, she just did that. It was mind-blowing to all of us. She was really in the story. She was just listening, and you can see her ears go up at just the right moment. Ansa and the dog really save each other at that point in the story. It’s not only Ansa who’s saving the dog, because she’s so heartbroken. Then it turns out to be a triangle drama toward the end, like, okay, Holappa can be part of it, but she has already found a partnership with that dog.
Part of why I think people are latching on to this movie is the final shot — that bit of hopefulness that we leave these characters with, the possibility of a charming future for the two of them together. And there’s also a hint that their two friends are going to have a similar coming together. Do you see a lot of double dates in their future?
I hope so. I guess they would have a hilarious time going tenting or something. That’s a very nice thought. I can see them all in a tent somewhere, just camping out in some forest. A lot of humor and silence.
