"The Class", by Ilmar Raag (2007)

How a social comment can be entertaining

Review by Sten Leesmann

It is definitely hard to imagine how a morbid film like “The Class” can, with all its issues regarding bullying and violence, still be considered as entertainment, but the fact remains that Ilmar Raag’s composition is a prime example of a perfect mixture of art and entertainment. Skillfully directed, shot and edited, it’s a masterpiece that Estonian cinema can definitely hold high as one of the magnum opus of our short censorship-free history. That being said, the much-acclaimed drama still has weak flanks that even Atlas himself couldn’t uphold.

Without revealing much of the well built-up suspension through retelling the movie, one must commend the way the story of Kaspar and Joosep is portrayed. Kaspar, the protagonist, is a simple country boy with principles who moved to the city. The main conflict unravels when one day he decides to make a stand against the leader of the pack in the class, the antagonist, Anders, in order to prevent the whole group’s everyday bullying of Joosep. The story takes place in a rather short period. We are given 7 days to understand the characters and get on the same wave-length with the director.

The one flaw this movie suffers from must be the overusing of profanity. While it is a refreshing touch in Estonian film, considering the borders that surrounded the creativity for the large part on the 20^th century, it still diminishes an otherwise outstanding film. The dialogue wasn’t believable at times and made one think that Ilmar Raag just hung out at the local youth center during the pre-production and picked up 90% of the cursing from there. It is still possible to put this indiscretion at a distance and look at the other great aspects this film achieved, but it can’t be left unsaid that the dialogue could have been emphasized more. This defect surely inhibited character development at times.

Putting the dialogue aside, the young cast must be commended. Vallo Kirs and Pärt Uusberg especially deserve full praise for their respective portrayals of Kaspar and Joosep. One can really feel for both of them as their problems mount with each day. Meanwhile, Lauri Pedaja also gives a notable performance as a mean pecker who the viewer loves to hate from the first moment they lay their eyes on him. We never really get to know the reasons why the conflict exists to begin with and it probably isn’t important. Maybe the non-explanatory stance that Raag uses is meant to tell the viewer that some things just have been and will be the same, unless some definitive action is taken.

The most depressing issue is that schools where these kinds of affairs occur actually exist in Estonia and “The Class” is nothing more than a brutally honest depiction of these events. As shown in the film, it is not uncommon that there is one leader after whom the whole class runs amuck. It may seem totally over-illustrated and ridiculous at times, but the problem is very much there and the overly passionate expression that Raag uses functions as acknowledgment of the topic as opposed to categorization of unbelievable fiction.

The technical department was also at its best in this movie. The editing and cinematography deserve special mention due to its diversity. It keeps its fast pace throughout the movie and taking the short time period in which the story takes place into consideration, Raag definitely made the right choice. The viewer can feel that he is in the hurricane himself, when the continuous clashes between Kaspar and Anders take place. Meanwhile we get longer shots and some powerful mis-en-scene’s that vigorously bring out the best and worst in the main characters. Through interesting camera angles and enjoyable score “The Class” toys with the artistic and entertainment value without fully committing itself to one or the other.

The producers can also be credited for killing a cash cow because in 2010, “The Class” was followed by a mini-series, “The Class: Life after”. Without revealing the somewhat twist ending, it could be said that the following series wasn’t really necessary, but it still works as a conclusion. Personally I liked the ending of the film and felt that the project could have been left untouched but this choice is really for everyone to make themselves. Whichever one is preferred, nothing can take away the importance of “The Class” in contemporary Estonian cinema: a bold and honest depiction of a very real problem while offering a refreshing touch in the technical section as well. Altogether an enjoyable watch.

Kuku: I will stay alive, by Andres Maimik, Kaidi Kaasik (2011)

A Documentary Glance at the Curses of an Estonian Artist:

By Greta Varts

The 2011 documentary follows a known Estonian actor in his failing attempts at battling alcoholism, finding work and maintaining relationships. Arvo Kukumägi (born in 1958) is one of the few Estonian actors who can primarily be called a film actor. He has also had roles in the theatre, but his best known and most valued roles belong to Estonian film classics, such as „Ideaalmaastik“ (Ideal Landscape, 1980, dir. Peeter Simm), „Keskea rõõmud“ (Midlife Joys, 1984, dir. Lembit Ulfsak), „Karu süda“ (The Heart of the Bear, 2001, Arvo Iho) and many others. All together, starting his career in 1977, Kukumägi has over 40 films under his belt to this day, in addition many television projects and theatre roles. However, the curse hanging over the realisation of talent and a happy fulfilled life for and artist, is the common, yet personal devil of alcohol.

The camera follows Kuku (known nickname for Arvo Kukumägi) in harsh and emotional episodes of his life and one of the best aspects of this documentary is the feeling that the camera has had no obstacles in terms of getting close to both Kuku and the people around him. We see the good and the bad, the viewer is as close as can get to both joy of life and despair. The viewer receives up close the emotional love for life and for people that Kuku finds in the hopeful moments, at the turning points of starting again. Yet the viewer is also forced to witness first hand the moments of hopelessness at times when Kuku’s face has become almost unrecognisable from the swollen agony of drink, when the shattered remains of a human being are presented to the people around him by the seemingly never-ending drinking cycle. We see him at his best and his worst. 

It is also interesting to observe Kuku’s many roles in life. The two main people well portrayed and important parts of Kuku’s illness and heart, are his girlfriend and a childhood friend, a disabled man from Kuku’s birth place Setumaa. The suffering of the girlfriend and remaining at Kuku’s side through worst of times is a remarkably emotional story of sacrifice and love. His fatherly relationship to his disabled friend is a touching portrait of the corners of life so unattainable to the average cinema goer. Kuku is a complicated character and as much as he lacks control over his drinking, he also encapsulates as a person, full of so much spiritual yearning and joy for life. The film offers a rollercoaster-like journey through the most meaningful aspects of life and somehow manages to pull together a portrait that rises higher than a story of another alcoholic. As mentioned, the documentary shows us also important social settings – the role of an artist in a society, the curious cultural setting of Setumaa (the south-east corner of Estonia) and the co-existing contrasts of Estonia where there is small step between glamorous magazine parties and village drunks wasting away on their front porches. 

The contrasts of the social and cultural context; and the forever remaining choice of succumbing to the devil or rising above the challenges of addiction is a condition not only typical to Kuku. Estonian society is one of the leaders in terms of countries with most cases of severe alcoholism in the world and the documentary unfortunately offers a familiar sight of challenges recognisable for many a local viewer. However, the real value of this documentary is the intimate presence of the camera eye in an also curious double role. In a way the camera serves as a receiver, a supporting anonymous person to whom these stories are shared. On the other hand, it serves as an invisible observer with an all-access pass with no judgement. Adding the multifaceted character of Arvo Kukumägi to the mix, the documentary serves a gripping and touching viewing for all.

Kuku: mina jään ellu / Kuku : I Will Stay Alive. Directed by Andres Maimik and Kaidi Kaasik; edited by Martin Männik and overseen by also Arvo Kukumägi himself. Produced by Kuukulgur in 2011.

Autumn Ball by Veiko Õunpuu (2007)

"Autumn Ball" allows you to enter the world of bleak solitude which has a great sense of humor and irony that helps us and the characters to overcome their problems. In the end there aren`t any right or false answers just the weight of being human. 


Review by Henryk Johan Novod



"Autumn Ball"("Sügisball", 2007) is the first full length film by Estonian filmmaker Veiko Õunpuu. The film is probably the most well known contemporary Estonian film to date. It was screened in many European film festivals and gained a lot of attention which is very uncommon for an Estonian film. His first contribution to Estonian cinema was a short film titled "Empty" ("Tühirand", 2006) which was based on Mati Unt`s novel. These two films are connected with the same approach of existentialism. At this point Õunpuu`s last feature film was a very complex art house drama "Temptation of St. Tony"("Püha Tõnu kiusamine", 2009) which got mixed reviews in Estonia but it was well received abroad when it was screened in various film festivals all around Europe.

Two different approaches to "Autumn Ball" 
"Autumn Ball" is based on a novel of the same name by Mati Unt ("Autumn Ball", 1979). The novel is about different types of people living in Mustamäe in Soviet Estonia. Unt’s novel concentrates on the difficult lives of people when they try to survive in the mundane and inhumane society, find intimacy and their place in a country that is completely separated from the rest of the world. Õunpuu also wrote the script, but unlike Unt he focuses on the contemporary Estonia and how emptiness has affected people’s daily lives, their mindset and living conditions. He takes on many different characters who all have their own dreams, desires and needs.

Õunpuu`s story takes place in Lasnamägi. This city was built during the Soviet era to welcome workers and simple folk coming from Soviet Russia. Even now Russians mainly populate it. Õunpuu tells a story of emptiness in man’s heart and anxious desire (but not successful desire) to change their life or find something to keep them going. "Autumn Ball" is not a light-hearted drama. It is an existentialistic drama film at its best. The world of anxious people trying to find comfort and meaning to their lives is presented in bleak colours that emphasize on the human`s condition. The colors are emphasized by the quite natural structure of the locations where our ensemble of characters are trying to figure themselves out. Lasnamägi is basically filled with nine-stories high apartment buildings that all look the same. They have a great resemblance to the apartment blocks of Northern London that are common to films of English social realism. "Autumn Ball" is subtle and unnerving, but it also has this extreme sense of tranquillity. The film is very static, but still very lively. The empty fields and high apartment towers illustrate the progress of these characters. Within the quiet, but struggling still life of Lasnamägi we get to witness the blank humour that dwell inside each and every character. When it surfaces we get a glimpse of irony that unsettles the saddening mood.

The harsh reality of loneliness
Apartment blocks are the true characters of the film. We see them everywhere. They set different moods although they are always the same. The characters are the ones who truly matter besides the towering buildings. They make you feel less negative about yourself and manage to keep you fascinated by their personal struggles. The film never really tries to make its audience uncomfortable by the subjective approach of its topic. These characters need empathy, but the film doesn’t need it from the audience. We see them like ghosts in a desolated world where there are no space for human connection. There are only hopeless attempts to interact with each other. They are in need for it, but even the greatest attempt to achieve their goals end up with a disappointment, but every disappointment manages to resurface their hope for a better future. The truth is "Autumn Ball" contemplates the human condition in a grey city of blank apartment buildings that are like empty boxes and develops the progression of lonely, but hopeful characters who finally achieve their goal to see life in Lasnamägi other way around.

Õunpuu`s direction can be categorised among the films that deal with peoples lives in post-soviet countries, but the goal isn’t concentrating purely on Estonian point of view. Õunpuu`s style is distinctive, but still very similar to the wave of European films that focus on existentialism of people in different conditions. "Autumn Ball" isn’t dealing with light subject matter, but the director manages to maintain the tender sense of humour. The characters aren’t hopeless and empty. They are meaningful souls who desire to see the light of day in the silent sky above the faceless Lasnamägi. They don’t know how to see the light, but they will try even when every attempt fails and their situation seems to get even more desperate than ever before.

Graveyard keeper’s Daughter by Katrin Laur (2011)

Digging up the dirt in Estonia.
Review by Helen Schasmin



Where does the line between film and reality cross with interpretation, where is the indemnity of overloaded realism? There are a lot of complex questions we need to ask ourselves while watching Estonian film. It seems often that filmmakers feel the urge to deal with too many topics and levels of understanding and so is the case with the film Graveyard Geeper’s Daughter (Surnuaiavahi tütar). Poverty is a major issue in Estonian society, even nowadays and it is a smart gesture to use the film medium to attract people’attention on this issue. Katrin Laur’s film does it ambitiously but also try to deal with too many issues, letting the feeling of an overloaded pile of information.

The film focuses on the ruination of a family caused by alcoholism, unemployment and poor living conditions. In the middle of the downfall spiral is a young schoolgirl Lucia who struggles with her school assignments and at the same time tries to take care of her sister with Down’s syndrome. The family undergoes a spare moment of joy when the father can take his family to Finland where he has been invited. But as they return to Estonia nothing has really changed – not in their personalities, ambitions or mentality.

Estonia vs Finland

The comparison of the two countries – Estonia and Finland, leads to an unrealistic touch. It raises unanswered questions like: why would a poor family come back to their broken Estonian home after having experienced the freedom and opportunities of a welfare society? There is no reflection about this choice. Was it willing or mandatory? Nor is there a hint how the trip influenced them later on. What is more, the film puts all Estonian negative stereotypes in one spotlight and expects it to work. Instead of that it raises just more questions: if there is no escape from the character’s everyday problems and no solutions to them, should not that be handled throughout metaphors and allegories, not just be bluntly put on the screen? Clumsy dialogues and poor acting of the young protagonist make it worse. Overall it seems that the actors do not connect to each other, alienate from their roles, and instead of blending to each other and creating opposites or varieties, it feels like the links between them are unnatural and have been unfolded. Fortunately is the leading male character (Rain Simmul) excellent in his part and he seems to carry the plot on well, as if he was made for the part. Tough his role does not seem to be very challenging, it is still enjoyable and gives the film some diversity.

Despite of the depressive theme of the Graveyard Keeper’s Daughter, the image of the film is very colorful, soft and enlightening. Wonderful camera movements by cinematograph Anssi Leino are full of bright coulors give the film a beautiful touch that captures the Estonian landscape and all its individuality. Also the social life environment of Estonian countryside has been captured very truly and adequately, it can be considered a success. The work of the sound designers must be complimented. Lucia’s voice over has been tuned so that it sounds like her speaking but it is actually an older actress who gave her voice to the character. Unfortunately that kind of action leads to a conflict: Lucia’s character’s emotions become repulsive, no childish emotions are left in it and it feels violent in the end.


One question remains at the end : is film the only place to exhale the depression of nationality? A simple answer would be: no. In Graveyard Keeper’s Daughter this serious theme has been handled poorly. Problems have been glutted on top of each other without beeing truly developed to a solution. Estonians are perfectly aware of the social problems. There are plenty of nice and positive things in life to enjoy and interpret in films. The time of overloaded realism in Estonian film medium is over, welcome to the happy endings. 

Letters to Angel, by Sulev Keedus (2011)

An ode to the loss of memory

Sulev Keedus fourth film  rediscovers his country through the eyes of an Afghanistan war veteran who tries to escape his souvenirs and hope to find peace with his granddaughter, Angel.

Review by Ra Ragnar Novod

Letters to Angel (Kirjad Inglile) is an ode to the old world before rapid globalization and to the value of human soul in a world where global interests have reached the level where a single individual doesn’t have the same value as united interest of the world. We see it unfolding through the eyes of Afghanistan war veteran. Like so many others he returns home after nearly 20 years being abroad. He has been gone for so long that he doesn’t recognize his home anymore and not one person is waiting for him. His wife and daughter are gone, seemingly forever. All that remains is his former home. This kind of plot is hard to summarize and anyway, it wouldn’t give a hint of the director’s style and how it creates the world around the theme that mourns the loss of memory and innocence. It is a personal story told from a one man`s point of view. The character seems at least partly close to the director himself which makes the story even more personal than it is for the main character Kirotaja.

Sulev Keedus is one of the most famous Estonian film-makers, whose most celebrated film is Georgica (1998). Letters to Angel is the fourth film he made in 21 years – rare appearances that usually put him in the prestigious category of “auteurs”. Keedus has a very distinctive style. He uses elements that don`t belong to the real everyday life. For instance the fact that Kirotaja`s hometown is now populated by only women and men have been numbed down to a degree of madness. It’s said that women live longer than men, which becomes a terrifying form of truth. The theme about the loss of memory really comes across when you realize that all the nightmares of war are becoming one with Kirotaja`s consciousness. He sees contemporary Estonia as a war ridden wasteland filled with lonely souls. Everywhere he goes he finds signs of chaos – violence and death. He feels surrounded by the sights and sounds of war that used to be his everyday life during his years in Afghanistan. Kirotaja meets old friends and new faces, all running from or towards something, all trying to survive. It`s all part of the grand search of one`s identity. 

Loss and acceptance 

Keedus knows exactly what he wants in the frame. His priority doesn’t seem to be the audience pleasure but how the mind is exercised while seeing the film. Letters to Angel express his style in the clearest and best way. Even more than his previous films, Somnanbuul (2003) and Georgica (1998). Loss and acceptance are the foundations of this story which at first seems to happen in the every day life but is slowly penetrated by elements of grotesque, absurd, insanity… The human side of the story is not entirely forgotten – Kirotaja has never seen his daughter’s baby Angel (Ingela). He only heard her voice on the phone and she is the only reason he came back from Afghanistan, a place where he changed his lifestyle and accepted a more peaceful and human way of life. Kirotaja sees modern day world as a German would look at the Inuit lifestyle : it looks like something out of a absurd science fiction novel.

Maybe the film is the dream of a feverish dying man whose spirit’s journey is fed by the desire of finding his loved ones. It may also be an absurd and grotesque way to show how the world is so intermingled that our identities become less important than Kirotaja’s pen which he always chews while writing letters with no address to his Angel.

• About modern Estonian cinema 

Despite Sulev Keedus made most of his films after Estonia regained its independence in 1991 after the collapse of the USSR, the frontier between past and present, between the pre-independence period and what happened after is always blurred. That is what makes his films in particular and Estonian cinema in general interesting. Of course, Estonian films don`t get wide international releases and most of the time they are only screened in European films festivals, which contributes to the illusion of a small scale industry not worthy to be recognized abroad. Actually Estonian film industry may be small but it’s also modern and it’s becoming more and more distinctive.

Bad Hair Friday, by Arun Tamm and Andres Kõpper (2012)

The Friday evening „must-see“?

Bad Hair Friday (“Vasaku jala reede”) , the action comedy by young directors Arun Tamm and Andres Kõpper, is bringing audiences from all walks of life to the cinemas of Tallinn. But why? And should you be one of them?

Review by Greta Varts 


A Tarantino-esque Tallinn-made film for young audiences 
One fine day two young media students were given a fair bit of money after a foreign investor had seen their Tarantino-esque student short and commissioned an action-packed film for young audiences. This is how the story of Bad Hair Friday began. It took a few years, a summer of shooting and a lot of young crew members from the new generation of Estonian film. Now the audiences are flocking to the cinema to see the result like they have not done for years in the history of Estonian cinema. The secret recipe? Easy enough as a guide on paper: cast locally known actors and celebrities, portray contemporary stereotypes, set it in a culturally relevant context of today and add a sense of humor inspired by the youth of the day. Bad Hair Friday is a fast-paced film about different people from various social backgrounds who on one particular summer Friday in Tallinn (the capital of Estonia) become linked both by chance and impulses given by their background stories.

Driven into crazy scenarios by the dangers both in the night and by more abstract notions of the ’darkness’ of humankind, we see thugs, club rats, dangerous mobsters, hookers, rich kids and the more boring ’normal’ kids all having to come to terms with the seemingly random domino effect of life. Varied with some more serious aspects of universal human life, the film generally draws from the comedy genre and tries to engage the viewers by its „drugs, sex and rock’n’roll“. As was said above – easy enough on paper. True, the film, running in the cinemas as this piece is being written, has already drawn viewers in great numbers due to its commercial appeal and will probably become one of the most viewed films since the restoration of independence (1991). However, it is important to note that the value of the film lies more within the current state of Estonian cinema culture than the quality of the film as such, as this film would be utterly irrelevant and poorly received if released in contexts of larger film industries compared to that of Estonia.



An efficient but imperfect recipe
Commenting on the ingredients of the recipe, all adds up to failures in contrast to the apparent monetary success. Firstly, the plot of the film is circumstantial and artificially random, meaning forcedly drawn together as one cohesive narrative. There are too many characters and narrative lines, meaning that they are all subject to a superficial treatment, reaching no satisfactory end result. Secondly, the characters are stereotypical to the extremes and do not change or develop much during the course of the film. Thirdly, the situations are improbable and follow the clichés of the Hollywood film contexts to the letter. The two boys arriving at Tallinn bus station from a presumably more modest town of Estonia, slightly loser flavoured and awkward, are greeted by their friend who seems to be more informed about living it up in the city, promising his friends a good time. Then there are the wannabe-gangster crack addicts exploiting two young girls as prostitutes to provide their income, the prostitutes of course having their own hopes and dreams. There are some more serious underworld characters also involved in the plot, people with money and connections, with the oldest main solution to conflict – torture and murder. We see the rich kids mocking ugly women and snorting cocaine in the club’s VIP section, having sex with at least two females a day. Again, on paper this all looks well and suited to the extremes of the society of the day as caricatures. However, this would perhaps work if the film would be a comedy through and through. By introducing the more serious themes of being and feeling used, peer pressure, cruel violence and suicide, the directing fails to deliver. The key of comedy is lost and yet the story is not credible and does not deliver an educating or thought-provoking message either.



Too many stereotypes
Also, the familiar context of Estonia that the viewers find entertaining is not strong enough in the story itself, but rests heavily on the random jokes and casting decisions. For example, who in Estonia wouldn’t want to see the Estonian Idol winner Ott Lepland who normally sings the most serious of ballads delivering the role of Leemet in the flm; a virgin country boy nerd who in addition to embarrassing himself in most cases, ends up killed after his first time with a girl. In Lepland’s case, the choice to cast a non-actor works. However, the balance is upset heavily by the casting choices as a whole. The professional theatre actors, television actors and non-actors side by side create an uneven performance, all from different departing points and sticking to their style with no compromises for the benefit of the wholesomeness of this film. It could well be that this difference is less noticeable to the foreign viewer who does not recognize the celebrities and has fresh eyes on the professional actors, but this is doubtful. Furthermore, it is doubtful that the foreign viewer would be left with any entertainment value without the knowledge of the inside irony of these casting choices and the jokes these stereotypes offer to the Estonian viewer.

Concerning truthful portrayal of a society, the film fails to depart from stereotypes. The ruling organized crime units of Estonia would highly unlikely be of Estonian origin, the drug addicts would not have the power to hold two healthy girls in their captivity as prostitutes to bargain with, the clubs would not facilitate sex in the public toilets or public cocaine use; and a 20 years old guy would highly unlikely ask someone to marry him, and however naive or nice a guy is, he would probably never kill himself for a girl; a person with a removed ear would not live long without medical attention and so on so forth. Yes, you can argue that in the face of comedy, this is just having a dig at the wrong parts of storytelling, but since this film does seem to also apply to serious issues, these factual discrepancies become irritating and confusing to the viewer. Not to mention that there is a lot of bad directing choices in terms of mise-en-scène, leaving the characters to have conversations in static two shots and yet having guns going off in the background. Again, a question of balancing, this time between the action film and slapstick comedy genres.



Why this film needed to be done anyway
All in all, the value and driving force for the Bad Hair Friday is the praise that it deserves for finally dragging younger audiences to the cinemas to watch an Estonian film. Its importance is removed from the technical execution and creative premises of the film, which are seriously lacking. Instead, the importance is posited in the social dimension and hope that perhaps in time the commercial Estonian cinema will also become a competitive aspect for the local film industry. This can only happen if the endeavors of young film makers with a mission to entertain will also be supported. Without competition within the commercial film, there will be no development in quality and this is why the Bad Hair Friday remains a Friday must-see. On a lighter note, it must be said that there will probably be a curiosity also for the foreign viewer in the strangeness of this film; in its mixture of well known stereotypes and the Estonian context.

Also, one of the best assets of this film is that when treated with the right light expectations and after a long day, this film is capable of gripping the viewer’s attention for the whole film, offering entertainment with all its tricks and chaotic course of action. In that way, the recipe has worked. Releasing approximately 12 films a year, the Estonian film industry has preferred to nurture the art house cinema, creating a situation whereby the general audience will not be interested to see the 10 of them which only the directors themselves understand. Bad Hair Friday gives hope that maybe one day it could be a more level competition between different film endeavors and a more varied choice able to grip more audiences from both the domestic and foreign platform.


“Vasaku jala reede” (Bad Hair Friday), dir. Arun Tamm and Andres Kõpper, 2012