"Steam of Life" is a memorable documentary film about the human experience, and it's certainly worth a watch. Through stories told by sweating, naked men, I was reminded of the universality that connects our species. Love, truth, regret, determination, letting go – these important aspects of life are explored both in conversation and in silence.
Spending time wrapped in steam is an essential part of life in Finland, where there is an average of one sauna per household. The process has its health benefits: sweating clears out toxins while slaps from birch branches open pores and improve circulation. But the layer that this film aims to expose is not purely physical: through emotional vignettes, "Steam of Life" brings the vulnerability of Finnish men into focus. The stories that these men tell in the sauna cover a wide range of life experiences: from the joy of raising a child to the horror of botched custody rights, the transition from criminal to family-man, the unending love for an enormous sauna- fearing bear – yes, seriously – this film truly has it all. In order to display the full spectrum, directors Joonas Berghäll and Mika Hotakainen traveled around Finland to reach men of all shapes and sizes, dispositions and personal histories. Each episode is separated by beautiful still-shots of the Finnish countryside and a minimalistic piano-driven musical interlude that seems to reflect upon the past scene. These breaks add a lot to the film, giving the viewer a rest from the raw nude footage and heavy subject matter: smoke rises from a wood-burning stove buried in the dense forest, mists drift across lakes, heavy clouds reflect in calm waters – the film's title seems more influenced by its punctuation than by its hard-hitting content. In "Steam of Life," excellent cinematography continually shines through the cloudier aspects of production. Woody, blushed colors dominate close shots inside of the saunas, and there is a certain weight that seems lifted when Berghäll and Hotakainen release us into the gentle, swaying foliage outdoors. Light is harnessed to create interesting shadows on the inner sauna walls. Oftentimes the shots seemed so artistically crafted that I wondered whether or not this was a true documentary, or one that had been modified for aesthetic reasons. Maybe everything in Finland is just that beautiful.
"Steam of Life" clearly illustrates the therapeutic and remedial aspects of the sauna in Finland. While these men pour out their emotions and share their most intimate secrets with an unspecified audience, the camera tends to focus on the other faces in the sauna which are held in receptive poses – as if instructing the viewer to do the same. The active-listening skills on display in "Steam of Life" are telling of the sauna's powers: as men sweat out the week's grime, they can enjoy a less tangible (but arguably more important) emotional release with a sort of psychoanalytic feedback. A caring audience helps, and I believe that Berghäll and Hotakainen intended to model the importance of being a good listener.
While details vary from scene to scene, "Steam of Life" ultimately comes across as formulaic. More often than not, the men in this film speak about hardships that they have endured, followed by an explanation of their current situation and a final "moral-of-the-story" umbrella statement. Unfortunately, a chance for these men to self-reflect often turns into an ego-serving rant. I wanted to sympathize with each man on screen, but sometimes their over-explanations made me question the editing prowess and artistic intent of Berghäll and Hotakainen. And on the rare occasions when an emotional note struck home, I couldn't help but think that Finnish men would be absolutely blasted company. The balance of uplifting stories to downright depressing ones was tipped very noticeably towards the latter – and even happier moments seemed somehow nonchalant. In addition, almost every story told by these men revolved around a female character. For a film championing male connection, it came across as gossipy.
If you think too hard about the logistics of the movie, you might find yourself questioning its legitimacy as a documentary. Berghäll and Hotakainen, along with the camera and sound crews, were sitting just across the room from the men they filmed. I can't imagine telling such private, emotional, and often tear-jerking stories (as these men did) with a microphone dangling inches above my head. A documentary should be composed of raw content, certainly, but in "Steam of Life" it all felt romanticized. It was more like a hybrid between an art film and a Finnish tourism advertisement than anything else.
Spending time wrapped in steam is an essential part of life in Finland, where there is an average of one sauna per household. The process has its health benefits: sweating clears out toxins while slaps from birch branches open pores and improve circulation. But the layer that this film aims to expose is not purely physical: through emotional vignettes, "Steam of Life" brings the vulnerability of Finnish men into focus. The stories that these men tell in the sauna cover a wide range of life experiences: from the joy of raising a child to the horror of botched custody rights, the transition from criminal to family-man, the unending love for an enormous sauna- fearing bear – yes, seriously – this film truly has it all. In order to display the full spectrum, directors Joonas Berghäll and Mika Hotakainen traveled around Finland to reach men of all shapes and sizes, dispositions and personal histories. Each episode is separated by beautiful still-shots of the Finnish countryside and a minimalistic piano-driven musical interlude that seems to reflect upon the past scene. These breaks add a lot to the film, giving the viewer a rest from the raw nude footage and heavy subject matter: smoke rises from a wood-burning stove buried in the dense forest, mists drift across lakes, heavy clouds reflect in calm waters – the film's title seems more influenced by its punctuation than by its hard-hitting content. In "Steam of Life," excellent cinematography continually shines through the cloudier aspects of production. Woody, blushed colors dominate close shots inside of the saunas, and there is a certain weight that seems lifted when Berghäll and Hotakainen release us into the gentle, swaying foliage outdoors. Light is harnessed to create interesting shadows on the inner sauna walls. Oftentimes the shots seemed so artistically crafted that I wondered whether or not this was a true documentary, or one that had been modified for aesthetic reasons. Maybe everything in Finland is just that beautiful.
"Steam of Life" clearly illustrates the therapeutic and remedial aspects of the sauna in Finland. While these men pour out their emotions and share their most intimate secrets with an unspecified audience, the camera tends to focus on the other faces in the sauna which are held in receptive poses – as if instructing the viewer to do the same. The active-listening skills on display in "Steam of Life" are telling of the sauna's powers: as men sweat out the week's grime, they can enjoy a less tangible (but arguably more important) emotional release with a sort of psychoanalytic feedback. A caring audience helps, and I believe that Berghäll and Hotakainen intended to model the importance of being a good listener.
While details vary from scene to scene, "Steam of Life" ultimately comes across as formulaic. More often than not, the men in this film speak about hardships that they have endured, followed by an explanation of their current situation and a final "moral-of-the-story" umbrella statement. Unfortunately, a chance for these men to self-reflect often turns into an ego-serving rant. I wanted to sympathize with each man on screen, but sometimes their over-explanations made me question the editing prowess and artistic intent of Berghäll and Hotakainen. And on the rare occasions when an emotional note struck home, I couldn't help but think that Finnish men would be absolutely blasted company. The balance of uplifting stories to downright depressing ones was tipped very noticeably towards the latter – and even happier moments seemed somehow nonchalant. In addition, almost every story told by these men revolved around a female character. For a film championing male connection, it came across as gossipy.
If you think too hard about the logistics of the movie, you might find yourself questioning its legitimacy as a documentary. Berghäll and Hotakainen, along with the camera and sound crews, were sitting just across the room from the men they filmed. I can't imagine telling such private, emotional, and often tear-jerking stories (as these men did) with a microphone dangling inches above my head. A documentary should be composed of raw content, certainly, but in "Steam of Life" it all felt romanticized. It was more like a hybrid between an art film and a Finnish tourism advertisement than anything else.