In one of his most famous interviews, Yasujiro Ozu stated, “I just want to make a tray of good tofu. If people want something else, they should go to the restaurants and shops.” By that, he meant he wanted to make films that approached the same themes, genres, and styles, even if they sometimes wielded wildly different tones.

One of Ozu’s greatest devotees is Aki Kaurismaki, the Finnish director, who birthed his nation’s distinctive cinematic identity with his films, which generally like variations of the same theme. They contain rock and roll, stoic characters and the misfortunes of the working class.

Cinema has been kind to Kaurismaki. He’s enjoyed a forty-year-long career that has overcome the odds of his nationality and idiosyncrasies. He has never bent to the pressures of the industry and has always remained true to his vision. In a world where great directors like Scorsese or Spielberg weave in and out of different genres while still maintaining their unique identities, Kaurismaki’s approach can feel old-fashioned but never outdated.

His latest film, Fallen Leaves, is filled with out-of-time elements, a radio, clicking phones and internet cafes. Yet the melancholic story at the centre still has the same pull it did in its adjacent films like Drifting Clouds or Shadows in Paradise. Gone are most of the familiar players of the Kaurismaki films, no Kati Outinen; of the major players, I only spotted Sakari Kuosmanen; instead, the director has found new faces with the same expressions which perfectly embodies that stoicism necessary in his world of quiet streets, forgotten songs and half-smoked cigarettes.

It’s brilliant. As with all his films, Kaurismaki keeps the runtime concise; no fat is left here for critics to argue over. It’s a sublime story, which might be one of his funniest. None of his wit is lost in translation.

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Holappa: I’m depressed.

Huotari: Why?

Holappa: Because I drink.

Huotari: Why do you drink?

Holappa: Because I’m depressed.”

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I’d argue it’s his prettiest, best put-together work. It’s really something how simple it is. In a year where movies have been filled with big premises and underlining subject matter, Kaurismaki makes another deadpan love story. Much like a tofu maker, once you’ve put in those 10,000 hours, I guess you never really forget how to do it.

Good karaoke scenes, synth melancholia and classic old-time jukebox rock and roll.