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Rating:
The plot has all the elements to give birth to a frenetic film, almost convulsive in its swift progression, or it could let the objectively dramatic side of the story overshadow with heavy and slow silent scenes, up to an unsettling epilogue.
Alternatively, “Miracle in Le Havre” enjoys a magnetic delicacy, I would dare to call it poetic, in its serene progression filled with satisfying shots that at once surprises us and wins us over.
A wonderful-charactered shoeshiner (André Wilms) is the protagonist of this dramatic story told in a light and airy manner, where love, illness, and immigration intertwine. It is this dichotomy, the ability to face the inherent difficulties of a life full of hardships with a smile and chin up, that surrounds us like a warm maternal embrace and serves as an indisputable pivot of the film.
Aki Kaurismäki offers us an hour and a half of hope and humanity, inviting us to set aside inherent distrust and prevailing cynicism. He asks us, almost on his knees with sweet scenes made of small gestures, not to underestimate the strength of a community whose coldness can suddenly dissolve just at the moment of need and in a completely unexpected way. The director shows us how first impressions, the hasty judgments we affix to people with half a glance, are not always correct, and how individuals can embody diverse behavioral facets.
In a time of crisis like the one we are currently living through, such a film might seem like a timeless tale, completely anachronistic, almost delirious.
In recent years, I've seen several dramatic films, many of which are powerful and devastating in their faithful depiction of the darkest and most hopeless reality. At this moment, to stay in France, I recall the stunning “Welcome” whose plot shares several points in common (an undocumented immigrant seeking to go to London, aided by an adult in crisis) with this film. “Miracle in Le Havre” is completely different in its half-full message, managing to address a dramatic story with extraordinary lightness, reminding me that cinema can impact in various ways. I think it’s just what I needed, and I realized it as I headed towards the exit.
Aki Kaurismäki performs a superb job, leaving the boy heading home with his fast and wobbly gait a bit of hope. But not cheap, greasy, and overly excessive syrupy hope, but the right dose inherent in someone who knows what they are doing, allowing me to look to the future, the difficult one ahead, with a little more confidence. At least for a while.
Seven is what it deserves. No, I don't want to inflate the "cow" evaluation metric, but I’m referring to the euros asked at the box office.
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