Finnish writer/director Aki Kaurismäki’s long and loyal connection to his cinematographer Timo Salminen has resulted in an abundance of stylish films shot in muted locations with a mixture of staid and enigmatic characters. This is true of Le Havre, his second francophone film since La Vie de Bohème (1992) which acts as his first instalment of a trilogy he plans to set in and around working ports. Led by the Socialist shoeshine Marcel Marx (Andrè Wilms), Le Havre follows a rebellious community who help a Congolese teenage immigrant evade the authorities on his quest to get to London.

With a humorous parody of 40s and 50s film noir, Kaurismäki’s film is full of suspicious men in ill-fitting coats. His detective, Monet (Jean-Pierre Darroussin), fits into this stereotype perfectly, as the shady policeman skulking around corners in trench coat and hat trying to catch out the unassuming locals. But at the crux of it, Le Havre is so successful due to its humble and modest portrait of an essentially good community, pulling together when they need to. Kaurismäki’s film embodies a deep sense of solidarity as he’s able to create a relationship not only with his actors, but is also able to emotionally connect with those on the other side of the screen.