Directed by Markus Lehmusruusu – Screenplay by Markus Lehmusruusu.
Hot on the heels of this month’s announcement that it is Finland’s official submission for the Best International Feature category at the upcoming Academy Awards, Markus Lehmusruusu’s The Squirrel just had its international premiere at Fantastic Fest in Austin, Texas. The feature – an international co-production between Finland, Germany, the Netherlands, and Sweden – had its world premiere in Finland earlier this year, and it marks the second feature film from Lehmusruusu. It is also relatively unique as it is a Finnish science-fiction film. I had the chance to see the film, and I can say that I think it works quite well despite some pacing issues.
Markus Lehmusruusu’s The Squirrel is set in a world where animals have gone extinct, people are constantly disinfected, passionate human expressions of emotion are reported, and people live with AI assistants. It is some kind of near-future dystopia where control, cleanliness, and predictability are prioritized above anything else. Here, we meet Pasi (played by Miro Lopperi), who is an engineer at a company called SynBio, where they make imitations of animals (think cheaply made toy dogs). One day, he encounters a real squirrel on his way home. Although initially startled by it, he eventually decides to bring what he perceives to be a strange animal home. As he gets a closer look at the animal, Pasi starts treating it like a pet, but soon its mood changes drastically. Meanwhile, Emilia (played by Mimosa Willamo) takes an interest in Pasi, and her interest in our lead character does more than merely confuse her.
The Squirrel is a peculiar film. It’s not every day that you encounter a science-fiction film from Finland of all places, but Lehmusruusu’s vision is one that is executed really well. By far its strongest element is its highly sterilized vision for its dystopian world. The film found the right balance between kooky and high-tech for its futuristic setting. I was reminded of Spike Jonze’s film Her, which, similarly to The Squirrel, presents a near-future world where people are overreliant on new technology but where everything looks relatively close to our modern day, only with certain aspects heightened. The world of The Squirrel is, admittedly, somewhat more heightened than Jonze’s film. The set design for Pasi’s apartment is particularly strong what with its minimalist and yet distinctly futuristic, sharply white features. The workplace setting feels inspired by Dan Erickson’s Severance. Furthermore, especially in the early parts of the film, Lehmusruusu and DP Max Smeds pay particular attention to characters’ placement in the frame, with Pasi often seen center frame.
As a side note, I was quite taken with the look of Pasi’s journey home from work. Although certainly futuristic, it also had that Nordic solitude feeling to it, as you see multiple people walking side by side but essentially in their own worlds, saying nothing, minding their own business, and all clad in some mixture of black, white, gray, or a dulled blue. It felt true to modern life, and it thus also felt like a sad comment on the state of our lives. Indeed, here is a film that tries to comment on and satirize the state of our world, with its focus on themes like environmentalism, loneliness, and how we may lose touch with our humanity as we keep chasing what’s new and algorithmic.
Narratively, the film also has hints of both Steven Spielberg’s E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial and Natalie Musteata and Alexandre Singh’s Two People Exchanging Saliva. The former for the character journey, and the latter for how this world treats human emotion and companionship. While it is not a laugh riot, it is certainly funny in a way, with its brand of comedy being decidedly more awkward. Emilia’s strong reaction to sexuality is one example of that, and another is Pasi’s first encounter with the titular rodent. There’s also some humor tied to how his AI assistant can openly reveal his stress level when he’s trying to hide it. Both Miro Lopperi and Mimosa Willamo play their character’s social ineptitude admirably, and the film especially comes to life whenever they interact, or when Miro has scenes with the aforementioned rodent. It’s often said that it’s difficult to shoot films with animals, and I’m sure Lehmusruusu encountered difficulties here, but he gets some genuinely good scenes with the very cute animal.
There are two things that I think work against the film. One is that the film’s eventual outcome feels inevitable at some point, and the film’s relatively slow pace thus becomes an issue. Since it is a film where emotional extremes are suspect, a large part of the film is spent with characters staying relatively restrained, and you keep waiting for them to break out of that emotional restriction that they are put under. The second issue that I have with the film is directly related to this. This is a relatively short feature at only around 90 minutes, and when the characters finally start acting in a less restrained manner, there’s almost no time left in the film.
Although Markus Lehmusruusu’s The Squirrel does suffer from some issues concerning pacing and inevitability, the Finnish director’s vision is a well-realized one. The set design, in particular, is a real highlight, and it is really nice to see a Nordic science-fiction film successfully pull off creating a futuristic dystopian world with a steady hand, while also having something to say and something to laugh along with. It’s also just a nice reminder of the fact that we must protect and appreciate the animals around us and touch grass every once in a while.
7 out of 10
– Review written by Jeffrey Rex Bertelsen.
