Critics reviews

It's a subtle bait-and-switch of a film, but that's okay. Certain generic conventions imply that it will head in a certain direction, but I don't think it's too much of a spoiler to tell you that it doesn't. In fact, the refusal of Olli Mäki—the film and the man—to play by the rules is the most interesting thing it has going for it.

It moves with equal parts grace and gracefulness, paying close attention to Olli's grappling with fame and love without ever looking down upon his very human decisions. The Happiest Day in the Life of Olli Mäki isn't the most ambitious film nor, frankly, the most intriguing film, but it works with kind efficiency.

A modest-seeming film that hits all of its marks with unusual precision... Throughout the film, [Olli is] trailed by a documentary crew (a detail based on reality) that repeatedly stages faux-verite scenes of Mäki in training, meeting financiers, et al. — in a sly way, Kuosmanen is almost congratulating himself on the high degree of period verisimilitude he's achieved by contrasting it with the fakery of Flaherty-rooted documentary practices.

[S]hot in black and white on gorgeous, grainy 16mm, Juho Kuosmanen’s charming slice-of-life drama is a warm, welcome sideways look at the Finnish featherweight boxing champion Olli Mäki.

Juho Kuosmanen takes a different route from the usual Rocky one, and focuses on Mäki’s love for a local girl, which begins to derail his career... The black-and-white film pays careful attention to period detail and character, and less to the blood, sweat and tears.

The long, steady shot of the couple calmly gliding down the road has a lyricism that's the basis of the movie's rhythm... Lacking single-mindedness with respect to boxing, Olli concludes that all he needs is love. A lesson for our time? I can only hope.

Here is a treat and a delight: this lovely film from Finnish director Juho Kuosmanen is a gentle, shrewd, somehow mysterious love story, based on real life, beautifully photographed in luminous black-and-white and drawing inspiration from Scorsese and Truffaut.

The rich, unexpected charm of Finnish award-winner The Happiest Day In The Life Of Olli Mäki is the way it builds a sports biopic out of nothing but mundane foibles.

Where significance lies is unmistakable: not in the boxing ring, where Olli fights for his country, nor at the press conferences where he's pressured to play up to the media, but in the simple moments of connectedness that he shares with Raija, the woman he loves. There's something rare and quietly thrilling about the contention that a woman might fulfil a man not by backing his aspirations, tolerating his bad behaviour or giving him motherly pep talks, but simply by being herself.

The film deepens quietly. This is Mr. Kuosmanen's first feature (he has directed a few shorts), and if he had any rookie jitters you wouldn't know it. It's a bit of a narrative slow-boil — the story arrives in pieces, in disconnected scenes and conversational fragments — but it grabs you right from the start. The most obvious reason is the dense, luxuriant black-and-white cinematography, which is very pleasurable in its own right.

The difference between this film and almost every other boxing movie ever made is in its emphasis. There’s no testosterone or trash talk here. Instead, the film is gentle, and quietly humorous.

With its loving recreation of the period, this is a must for vintage design fans. But what’s most remarkable is how the film somehow avoids the trap of twee nostalgia. Instead, it’s an authentic celebration of the timeless delights of country bike rides and skimming stones. Absolutely lovely.