It is evident from very early on that Natura is going to unfold in a measured, un-showy way. Written, directed, shot and edited by first-timer Matti Harju, it may have a premise that screams home invasion thriller, but if this can even be cajoled into the ‘crime’ genre, it’s far more about the underlying causes and unexpected consequences of that crime than the excitement or jeopardy of the deed itself. Understated in almost every department, it’s full of decisions that confound expectations, where it turns the camera away at the moment others would zoom in. An oddly serene and cerebral take on a familiar set-up, it’s the kind of film that will yield much if audiences are patient enough to see it.
That aforementioned set-up involves two men, Kentsu (Jarmo Kämäräinen) and Markus (Asko Lintunen) who found each other online amidst their personal crises of stagnation and futility. “Nobody is coming to save you,” intones Markus on one of their video calls. As a result, that have decided to travel to the home of a crypto millionaire (Juha Lilja) to hold him hostage and steal his wealth. They’re quite different men. Markus comes across as more of an ideologue, the man with the plan who otherwise spends his days picking up litter in the local park, reminiscing about a bad experience with processed foods, and contemplating his – presumably unfair – place in the world. Kentsu is introduced on a phone call in which he interrogates his girlfriend about a neighbour who offered to mow her lawn and later he reminisces about having sex in a house they drive past – moments afterwards he sighs, perhaps lamenting former glories, before declaring that he doesn’t “understand anything anymore.”
Most of this information has to be gleaned from fragments of conversations or intuited from physical performance as Natura is not a film that lays out its narrative with exposition. In fact, to a large extent, Harju eschews both the ‘tell’ and ‘show’ of the famous filmmaking adage. Even when the plot kicks into gear and they break into the man’s home with a pellet gun and a drill, the editing leaves crucial events to be pieced together. Particularly towards the end – and in something resembling a coda that takes place in the days and weeks after the main action – gaps are left for the viewer to construct their own timeline. If what the Kentsu and Markus set out to do can be described as a ‘job’ in the sense of a criminal enterprise, then the presentation of its execution is more like the mundanity and clumsiness of Jeremy Saulnier’s Blue Ruin than the expertise of a polished heist film.
Despite the understatement of the narrative, the performances of the actors are also regularly at something of a remove. Harju is often happy to let the camera dwell on an incidental detail, to listen in on snippets of conversations from an oblique angle, or to observe the men quietly ruminating, the footage intimate but its subjects inscrutable. Machinations and motivations are never made explicit, but these splinters have a cumulative effect all of their own. There is a sense of stasis, of a beautiful world happening all around them, that acts as a respite but equally as a constant reminder of their own inertia. This remains the case even when they seem to be exercising their agency to its fullest extent.
The cinematography has a highly saturated, almost-blown-out quality that is often employed in films to depict dusty, sun-baked poverty. This visual language feels particularly apt in the early scenes that show Markus surrounded by detritus as he tests out his fake firearm or as the camera observes a train crossing or abandoned warehouses that give the men an unflattering socio-economic framing. However, the vividness of the imagery persists and begins first to highlight the verdancy of the countryside they pass through, and then to cast a sweaty, almost sickly pallor on the millionaire’s palatial home. One of the things that ultimately runs throughout Natura is how little difference there truly is between Kentsu and Markus and their equally lonely target, and the pretences and ornamentation that surround all three men are dismantled in very different ways.
Director, producer, screenplay, cinematography, editing: Matti Harju
Cast: Asko Lintunen, Jarmo Kämäräinen, Juha Lilja
Sound Design: Petrus Rapo
Music: Asko Lintunen
Venue: International Film Festival Rotterdam (Bright Future)
In Finnish
68 minutes