After her older Russian lover bails on their plans, Laura (Seidi Haarla), a Finnish archaeology student, sticks to the itinerary and leaves Moscow by train to visit the Kanozeno Petroglyphs, rock drawings dating back to the 2nd and 3rdmillennium BC, in the Murmansk region. “Compartment Number 6” (2022) follows Laura as she adjusts to life on the rails. This Cannes Film Festival Grand Prix winning Finnish film is an adaptation of Rosa Liksom’s semi-autobiographical novel.
If a film billed as a romance is a turn-off, be assured that “Compartment Number 6” (2022) is a coming-of-age story. It maybe reminiscent of those odd couple rom coms where the guy is awful, and she is uptight, but the movie manipulates the viewer into rooting for them to get together. The austere setting distinguishes this movie from a traditional rom com, and the movie never suggests that Laura needs to learn from her train mate Ljoha (Yuriy Borisnov), a boorish Russian worker. Ljoha is no one’s idea of Mr. Right. The film’s goal is not for Laura to end up with the right person, but to become herself, not to stifle herself to win a lover’s acceptance. Laura’s transformation starts because of her overall journey, not solely because of her burgeoning relationship with Ljoha and his improvisational navigation of challenges.
When Laura starts her journey, she is physically on the train, but her mind is stuck in the past. Because “Compartment Number 6” gives a glimpse of her life with her lover, the filmmaker implies information that Laura does not see because she is in love. Laura is a lover of convenience who overstayed her welcome and was destined to be dumped because her lover is not as into Laura as Laura is into her. Her lover holds court, enjoys attention, and makes sly fun of Laura’s intellect. By the denouement, in retrospect, Laura’s lover seems crueler for arranging and not going on the trip. Laura is not her best self with this lover. Laura is smaller, insecure, and vulnerable to her deficiencies being pointed out, which is standard for many women. She is malleable to garner approval from her lover and her lover’s friends-willing to change her interests and her tastes.
“Compartment Number 6” is also a road movie, so Laura is understandably uncomfortable in unfamiliar territory whether her lover’s Moscow apartment or a train to the Arctic Circle. This period film unfolds after the dissolution of the USSR in the nineties. She seems to feel as if the Russian people are forbidding and cold. Laura is also disgusted at her accommodations as a tourist though she rejects the label. Without being heavy handed, as Laura walks through the train cars without any character commenting, writer and director Juho Kuosmanem shows us how the lower classes are unbothered and living with less. The Russian characters inherit the scarcity of the Communist regime while enjoying the freedoms of travel, enterprise, open communication, and gatherings. The comparatively well-off Finnish protagonist becomes less annoyed by the conditions and grows to appreciate the challenges of enjoying herself under all circumstances whether in a gutted industrial wasteland or a frozen wilderness. She stops meditating on her insecure, intellectual poseur past to become a spontaneous bon vivant. She literally leaves her lover’s shadow.
Ljoha is exactly the kind of person that no one would want to share a small space with—drunk, inappropriate and no respecter of personal space. Laura’s feelings about him change only when he behaves better. It was weird to me that other than Ljoha’s crudeness, Laura was never concerned about her safety. Was this normal or specific to Laura as a character? I kept waiting for a shoe to drop, and it never happened, which was nice for a change. Regardless Laura warms to Ljoha as he shows a fierce loyalty in defending her space and commiserating without judgment about her time in Moscow with her lover. Ljoha is a little sketchy. We do not get many answers about his past, and he seems to be carrying a purse. How can he afford a relatively private compartment? Just when their relationship is warming up, Laura introduces a new dynamic into their train car. Ljoha sulks in response. Unlike many rom coms which introduce a woman who needs to lighten up and finds a fun-loving guy who takes her down a peg, Ljoha has his own issues. While it was a touch contrived, when Laura meets a better roommate on paper, it was effective in highlighting Laura and viewers’ erroneous preconceptions about Ljoha and showed how he was the preferable travel partner. I was left wanting to know more about him. I wish that subtitles would look different depending on what language is being spoken like in “The Handmaiden” (2016).
Laura felt like a possible proxy for Kuosmanem since she makes home videos on her camcorder, one of her many technological signs of wealth. Watching her footage was the weakest part of “Compartment Number 6” though I understand that the object and its ties to her past allow the director to show us how Laura transforms and provides a plausible reason for an interior dialogue. The phone calls performed the same function and were more entertaining because it provided more opportunities for character interactions.
“Compartment Number 6” deserves praise for handling sexual orientation as a normal part of life without centralizing it as the main theme. Unlike “Kissing Jessica Stein” (2001), sexual orientation was not used to dress up an otherwise traditional heteronormative rom com. The protagonist’s sexual orientation is a fact, not a plot point. Laura’s relationships are not defined except by how much she loves and feels a connection to the other person. Their gender is irrelevant though she hides her lover’s gender to the inquisitive Ljoha. I was surprised that Ljoha did not bat an eyelash at Laura’s revelation. Even though it is a Finnish movie, it unfolds in Russia. Is this ahistorical? I am uncertain if homophobia was as prevalent and dangerous as it is now.
Because Laura prides herself as not being a tourist, Laura rejects the safe, well-trod tourist option and adopts Ljoha’s method to achieve her goals to experience authenticity, which may inspire viewers. The denouement becomes a paean to winging it and the Russian people’s joyful adaptation in the face of danger or want. As Ljoha negotiates a leg of their journey, Kuosmanem mines the humor by contrasting their guides’ pessimistic disclaimers with their eventual acquiescence. It reminded me of New Yorkers’ kindness-their realistic-to-pessimistic tone, but willing and generous practice. Laura and Ljoha become childlike and treat the Arctic Circle as their playground. The ambiguous ending will leave some wondering if Laura and Ljoha’s relationship will last beyond this trip. Her demeanor at the end is a huge step up from the one upmanship Moscow dinner parties.
Even though the landscape alternates between gutted industrial wasteland to frozen wilderness, I love a winter vista so “Compartment Number 6” visually spoke to me. The steel blue sky and water and the dark rocks dotted with green is a special type of beauty. I wish that we could have seen more, but there probably was a preservation reason why the cameras did not get closer.
I do not need the “Before” trilogy. I need the “Compartment Number 6” trilogy. The lack of romance, picture perfect movie stars in beautiful clothes and eloquent characters was a refreshing approach. People being people and having childlike fun kept me invested.
Side note: After watching “Compartment Number 6,” Russia invaded Ukraine then threatened Finland and other countries if they considered joining NATO. Russia used to dominate Finland, and wondering if the characters were also metaphors for reconciling historical conflicts? If Laura and Ljoha’s relationship is a metaphor for the countries’ relationship, then the film is hopeful that the nations can move past their historical differences and under the right circumstances, enjoy their proximity instead of feeling antagonistic. The film is a good reminder to distinguish between the superficial media image and the innate humanity of Russians and distinguish the people from the state.