12 (2020)

The Journey of a Mystical Man
About Jyri Pitkänen’s documentary 12
As a filmmaker who keeps the tradition of Baltic poetic documentary close to the heart I was very touched and happy to see the reflection of the style in Jyri Pitkänen’s film “12”.
In my view the film is very moving and at the same time intriguing cinematographic story – a piece of art told in the best traditions of poetic style and it has been a pleasant experience to watch it.
The first five minutes are very intriguing. Actually, intrigue is kept alive through the whole film - we don’t know nothing for a long time, but follow the journey of a mystical man on the driveway. The darkness, the flashes of the road lights, the arousing score and perfectly thoughtful cinematography makes the viewer wonder: there must be a mistake, I am seeing a feature film here...
There is this man pathing his way through the darkness towards somewhere important. He does not have other place to sleep as his own car. He is calm, silent and concentrated on the destination.
A song record starts to play in the bacground while he is driving. Actually, it is a religious psalm, but in the movie it plays at least two roles. One role is to add a certain solemnity to the mystical journey of the dedicated man and brings the atmosphere up – above the everyday level.
The other role is to give the viewer some – very stingy, though, but information and context in that coded form of poetry which reminds me of scandinavian skalds or bards - singing poets who travelled the countries telling (singing) about the heroic deeds and voyages of the great Vikings in many verses:
“You alone know me, Father” - the little choir in the background reminds us,
“And you are remedy of all the wounds, I want to come to you as a champion and if not then I will bring my defeat.”
The psalm is giving the epic vibes – we are on the way to something great, big, uninvenitable – like a last journey. Either the wounded wolf fulfills the destiny or he fails and so it must be...
At dawn, we come back to a more realistic grounds (and we finaly see – it is a documentary, allright). They mystery night is gone, Finland is written on the back of the man’s jacket. There is a little confusing moment again – he dries himself with his wollen hat instead of a towel – either he does not care anymore or he is a bum, hurt, lost, finished, as the song already suggested.
The roads start to twist and change one after the other. Between the road shots there is a confusing moment again - he suddenly gets some years younger – it is like a flashback –
 perfectly edited between the cargo car and the old man’s face – after the second such (in)cut we understand - he has been on this road before and it is a ritual that he does year after year (or decade after decade?).
The dance of the roads becomes little monotonous, we get tired watching this and waiting – as the man himself must have with all this driving.
Suddenly we are at the destination. The second shot of the snowy mountains reveals it to be more prosaic than imagined. But then again there is that strange mix of solemnity and grounding. The old man has come to jump! He is a sportsman. The very Finish thing!
And we see him together with other quite old masters there – all are queing at the heavy step towards their voluntary Golgata, all carrying their skis (crosses) up the stairway to heaven. Especially, I love the shot where they are all climbing with the skis on their shoulders - already out of breath, already old and not so vigorous and jumpy any more. There is no question in the air of who wins and who is defeated. Number “11” climbs right behind our Number “12” (I have been already exaggerating with those biblical conotations, so I’d rather stop here). And one realises how they all must have done similar journeys from their places through the years and miles to come, climb and jump.
The film ends with a shot where our mystical man flies directly into the open “Fathers arms”.
Which is dramaturgically perfect.
Only... probably sligtly speculative. Namely, right after the first title I google the internet because I want to know who is this mystical “12” - Aatto Lamminpää as I grew to like him during the movie. It is not easy as most of the information is in finnish, but thanks to the directors “Production book” which was kindly sent to me, I get to know who is that old master and great trainer of ski jumping.
And then I have some small ethical doubt.
Legendary Latvian filmmaker Herz Frank called this method a corrida. “We, directors - torreros knowing our trade”, he said in 1983 at the symposium of documentary filmmakers in Jurmala, “we kill the bulls picked for the fight, but... in a beautiful way! Sometimes, of course, we risk to be killed ourselves and it happens – when we do not know how to manage the reality of life. But anyway – it is a duel, a fight – we get close with the bull as much as possible and only at the last moment we grab the scissors and drop its blood. Dilluted, but there is blood.”*
Kristine Briede

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* Matīsa K., Redovičš A. (2007). Dokumentāls logs uz Eiropu. Dokumentālā kino simpoziji 1977-2007, Riga: Mansards. page 66.
 Documentary filmmaker, Latvia