“No commercial potential. Go to America. They’ll put up with anything there.”

Flinthart’s review: I’m rushed off my feet at the moment, battling hardcore deadlines so I have to tuck film reviewing into the days I set aside for basic maintenance. That kinda makes fishing for interesting subjects trickier than usual. So imagine, if you can, my surprise and absolute joy when I checked the Mutant Reviewer site and found that there was no listing for Leningrad Cowboys Go America.

If you know the film, let that sink in. If you don’t know it? Oh, boy, Have you got a treat coming!

This film is just brilliant. It’s a pure delight to be able to say yes: This is off-beat cult stuff, but it’s also every bit good enough to compete in the mainstream. Made in 1989 by Finnish (relative) newcomer Aki Kaurismaki, this film made it to #88 in Empire Magazine’s Top 100 ‘World Movies’ back in 2010. And honestly? I think it’s possibly in my top 10 films all round. It’s gorgeous.

The plot is simple. “Somewhere in tundra, in no-man’s land” a very Russian-style band is auditioning. But the Soviet apparatchik they’re auditioning for says they’re “shit,” and tells their manager to try the USA because “they’ll swallow any shit there.” So — with a minimum of money and English, our cluster of musicians (and their sleazy manager, and one unstoppable fan) go to America. They land in New York, and begin the process of looking for musical fame. New York won’t have them but they get an offer that involves Mexico — so they scrape up the cash to buy a big old car and drive across the country, playing music on the way to make survival money until they reach their goal.

That’s it. A big old road trip movie. What’s so great about that, eh?

Oh, you have no idea.

First, the band is big. There’s like, eight guys in it (nine if you include the bass guitarist who is the first to appear on screen, except that he’s frozen to death — apparently — from staying out all night in the ploughed field practicing and probably drinking) plus the manager. And they play the classic range of instruments for their music: squeezebox, fiddle, balalaika, drum kit, euphonium, trombone/trumpet, tuba. Yeah, whoa, that’s a lot of instruments and some of them are pretty damned big, so the concept of jamming this whole show into one of those classic ’60s Yankmobiles is pretty funny.

But there’s more. See, for no reason ever explained (the film is like that) the entire band is… uhh… themed? They all have improbably large, pointy black quiffs, and they all wear improbably long and pointy black shoes, and they perform in black suits. Yep. So — visually, putting these guys up in front of crowds of everyday Americans in places like Tennessee and Texas is fairly hilarious.

Now, let’s add in the fact that musically, they’re really bloody good. The first number you hear is a classic Russki ‘Cossack Song’ played straight — and played very, very well. But as they hit the US and it becomes clear that America’s not ready for a Russki oompah/klezmer thing, they become musical chameleons playing rock, pop, blues, and country/western. The peak is probably the moment where a long-lost cousin (yes, with the same quiff and shoes) that they stumble across in Texas steps up in a biker bar to become their new lead singer with a rather fine rendition of Steppenwolf’s ‘Born To Be Wild.’ With this addition, their musical ensemble is complete. They win over the bikers, and from there it’s a straight shot to Mexico where the bass guitarist (who they’ve brought with them for the entire journey, packed in ice on the roof of their car) thaws out and comes to life, and they find their place in the musical pantheon.

What really makes this film awesome is the totally deadpan humour. It’s just fabulous. From that opening with the frozen bass-man right through to the last scene where the band’s manager wanders off, opens a hidden tap on a cactus plant and apparently draws a glass of tequila straight from the source, the film is just one long string of fantastic deadpan sight-gags. (Don’t want to spoil too much… but oh, Lord, the use of the coffin full of ice on the car roof as a beer cooler!) And the actor/musicians are so very good! Everybody plays with the straightest of straight faces, getting even more so as the situations become more improbable.

Oh! And then there’s the sub-plot wherein their one fan — apparently mute — who desperately wants to be part of the band (but can’t grow a quiff and doesn’t play music) follows them all the way to the USA, and then all the way across. His misadventures provide plenty of hilarity, but also a certain poignant sweetness which comes from his dog-like, unstoppable adoration of the band and its members, and when he’s finally reunited with them and permitted to take a place among them, it’s a genuinely sweet moment.

Look — I’m floundering here. This is one of those lightning-in-a-bottle things. I can tell you about the plot and the elements that combine to make it hilarious and lovely and deeply memorable, but no amount of reviewing will ever give you a real taste of the work. Kaurismaki’s direction is pitch-perfect for the piece. His framing, his visual choices, the muted colour palette, the seamy, grimy American scenery and settings, the music as played onscreen, the background music, the occasional use of title-cards to deliver on scene changes or ultra-dry punchlines — it all comes together under Kaurismaki’s eye to become something very special indeed.

Of course, it lacks a few modern elements. There’s no romance, for example, and I’m not sure there’s a single line delivered by a female character anywhere in the film. (The band is entirely male, and unsurprisingly for being ‘Russian’, also entirely white.) You probably couldn’t get this film made today — but who cares? It’s an absolute gem. The characters are precisely what the story requires, and the story itself comes to life in those perfectly created characters. Not every film has to have a romance, and sometimes you can even have a magical, brilliant film without women. (Go ahead. Shoot me. I don’t care. I mean, you can also make magical, brilliant cinema without men, but saying that is a whole lot less controversial in 2023).

Leningrad Cowboys Go America may not have set the cinematic world afire back in the day, but it was successful enough that it got a sequel a few years later. The band itself acquired a certain fame as well, releasing a few tracks and making a LG concert film called something like ‘The Total Balalaika Show’. You can find clips of them doing their thing on YouTube, where they now have their own channel — but be aware that the band is distinct from Kaurismaki’s film. Different vibe – but the music is great. Dive in. Have fun.

In the meantime: this film rates 9 out of 10 cryogenically frozen bass guitarists. Find a way to see it. Now.

Intermission!

• Somewhere in tundra… in no man’s land.
• The shoes! The hair!
• Oh! These guys can play!
• They ALL drive tractors?
• Dear God. That dog has a quiff!
• Grandpa has a quiff. And the shoes.
• Oh look. The baby in the cradle has a quiff.
• ABE LINCOLN has a quiff?
• ‘Take the stiff with you and show him the world’.
• Aww… the poor mute fan CAN’T grow a quiff…
• “Nueva York”?
• You always get murdered when you go to New York. I’ve seen it on television.
• Who is that selling the cars? Is that Jim Jarmusch? Oh hell! It is!
• Heh. Can’t drive with shoes that pointy!
• Lucky Cadillacs have so much space in the trunk, eh?
• Oooh! The waitress got a line! She said “Yes sir!”
• “I wonder where he gets all that beer.”
• Damn! That’s a fine version of ‘Tequila’.
• They beat him badly…