The Girl from the Match Factory
Iris's days are marked by monotony and dreariness. During the day, she stands at the assembly line in the match factory and checks between the rattling machines to see if the packages are in order. In the evening, she cooks a meager soup for her mother and stepfather, who live on welfare and Iris's salary. There is hardly any conversation in this world. Only the television news bombards Iris on Sunday evenings. When she buys a dress one day after work, she is immediately punished at home for this sudden expression of her needs. Nevertheless, Iris goes to a dance hall in search of a man like the ones in her novels. There, too, she remains isolated. One beer-filled evening, Iris is finally taken home by a man, and a one-sided love affair begins. He coldly dumps her, even though she is pregnant with his child. At home, Iris is unceremoniously thrown out. To restore justice, she takes matters into her own hands in a radical way.
Adrian Figueroa brings the screenplay by the great Finnish cinema poet Aki Kaurismäki to the stage, the film with almost no spoken language. We see a numb world in which any spark of life is immediately swallowed up, but which, in its bleakness, is also liberatingly funny to watch.