On-site, I discovered how Aki and his friend, the poet and writer, Mika Lätti with a small team of workers were handcrafting this cinema, using recycled wood, metal, and furniture. I sensed the enthusiasm of the locals, who saw this cinema as a transformation of their town.

During the construction of the movie theater, cinema became the main and almost exclusive topic of local conversations. The entire town was breathing in rhythm with the progress of the construction work.

This emerging space was gradually becoming the new heart of the town. Nearby, the metallic heart of the old forges resonated day and night, reminding us that the town was built around this factory.

The connection between cinema and factories is as old as cinema itself.

Filming in this factory in Karkkila was particularly striking: the interior spaces evoking yesteryear, the harsh working conditions, the heavy air. This experience reminded us that there are skills that machines cannot replace, the talents and expertise of men and women.

In Finland I also observed the special bond that the inhabitants have with nature, as if they were connected to something deeper that they don’t often speak of. Nature is like a well-kept secret, a place where they can seek refuge and listen to the silence, the language practiced by most Finns.

The magic of cinema lies in its power to transform reality and create fictional memories. When reality meets fiction, we begin to perceive the reality through this new transparent filter.

When discovering a place for the very first time, we have the sensation of having already visited it thanks to cinema, which becomes a kind of guide, a point of reference, a context.

Imbued by Aki Kaurismäki’s films, the characters we encountered in Finland bore the imprint of his movies. We felt as if they were emerging from fiction as we entered it. By living for almost a year in this small town, we also became characters in this fiction, and the film Cinéma Laika has become a fiction of reality.