Oscar winner Emma Thompson, deeply in love with Finland, wrote a letter of praise to Finns

”KWhen I arrived in Olli, I had no idea how lucky I was. Magical peaks, guarded by snow-covered pines, greeted me. I began to sense that a tremendous privilege and adventure was about to begin.

I arrived in Koli on January 29, to prepare The Fisherwoman – to the filming of the film. The film takes place in Minnesota, USA, but since there is no snow in Minnesota due to climate change, it was decided to shoot all outdoor scenes in Finland.

Shooting action scenes in cold, snow and ice was difficult for me. I can’t say I’ve always felt comfortable or even confident. I was often scared and doubted if I could do my job.

I was supported, constantly, by the extraordinary nature of the environment and the people. From the moment I arrived in Koli, I was greeted with kindness and warmth. The enormous hospitality and humor of the people made Koli feel more and more like home.

Tthe Finns in our night group seemed quite suitable for film work. They were calm and confident. They worked with incredible energy and without complaint, no matter how absurd the hours or the weather.

During filming, my special heroes were the members of the group we call the Snow Team. The weather changed, as it always does, and when the lake became wet, the Snow Team sledded more snow over the tracks so that the melting wouldn’t show. If it was wet, they replaced the slush with dry snow. If there was too much snow, they shoveled the snow away from the shooting area with tons of snow.

I watched them, day after day, doing this strenuous work. Not once did they get tired or refuse work. They were a great source of comfort and strength to us all. Quite a special job, moving snow from one place to another. We wouldn’t have succeeded without them.

All the Finns in the working group were admirable in different ways. Our drivers were incredible: they drove roads that ranged from snowdrifts to terrifyingly icy and slush-covered, even muddy roads. They cared and kept us safe and, perhaps most importantly, introduced us to the best bars.

Ohjaaja and I reminded ourselves by these landscapes every day that this was a life-enriching experience rather than a job. The beauty around us felt profound. It gave us strength. We breathed energy into ourselves and felt awe.

For the rest of my life, I will remember doing fight scenes on an icy lake that had started to melt and then froze overnight. Condensation made patterns and shapes in the ice, which I traced with my fingers. I stared at the landscape in disbelief, unable to thank that I got to work on something so lovely.

It didn’t matter that I was cold and straining every muscle in my body (it was a daily reminder not to start an action movie career at 64). Beauty gave me strength, was somehow the source of everything.

The last shoot at the lake was special: it felt like the spirit of the place had blessed it. The sunset took the breath away, expanded the heart and soul. We were all silent and full of gratitude, almost spiritual.

MI’m trying to say – maybe awkwardly, because things are still unfinished and I’m not completely myself – that filming in Finland is more than the sum of its parts. Its parts are indescribable, and the Finnish people I met seemed like they were made to make a movie.

Shooting a movie is unpredictable, messy, complicated and frustrating. Finns make it easy. If the weather is wrong, they focus on what we can do and never on what we can’t do.

Their attitude – according to my own experience – is born of determination and perseverance, which I can only guess comes from Finland.

The country is always changing, full of drama and change, complex and demanding.

You shouldn’t fight against circumstances – you have to cooperate with them, you have to adapt to them, you have to change with them and you have to respect them.

AI would give anything to have the opportunity to work here again. That’s why I thank everyone who works to keep audiovisual production alive and well.

I want to encourage my colleagues with all my heart to place their productions here. If you need a dramatic landscape, it’s here. If you need brave-hearted, highly sensitive and indomitable team members, they are here. If you need comfort and a homely life, it’s here.

I will always be grateful for my time in Finland. I am writing this text on my last day. Fortunately, I have been able to spend my last day in Finland with my friends who have a smoke sauna and an opening. It’s like a final blessing from a country I’ve come to love and will miss immensely.”

Dame Emma Thompson

(Text translated from English to Finnish by Henriikka Korte)

Thompson’s original letter in English

”I arrived in Koli, Finland on the 29 th of January, to prepare for a film called The Fisherwoman. It takes place in Minnesota but as they had no snow there owing to the changing climate, the decision was taken to shoot all the exteriors in Finland.

I had no idea how lucky I was but upon arrival in Koli, greeted by the piney, snow-laden sentinels that guard that magical hillside, I started to sense what a huge privilege and adventure this was to become.

I confess up front that I found it quite hard to shoot action sequences in the cold, in the snow and on the ice. I cannot say it was easy. I cannot say I was always comfortable or even confident. I was often quite scared and often doubted my capacity to do the work.

But what supported me at all times was the extraordinary nature of the environment and the people. From the moment I landed, I was met with kindness and warmth, with deep hospitality and humour by people who made my stay in Koli feel more and more like home. The Finns on our crew seemed to me to be peculiarly well suited to film work. They were calm. They were confident. They worked incredibly hard and without complaint, no matter how insane the hours or the weather.

My particular heroes were the group we called the Snow Team.

The weather changed – as it always does and when the lake became wet, the snow team dragged sled after sled of fresh snow to cover over the thaw and maintain the continuity. If the weather was wet, they swept the watery sludge off the surfaces and replaced it with dry snow. If the weather was too snowy, they shovelled ton after ton of snow away from the shooting area. I watched them, day after day, do this back-breaking work and never did they tire or object. They were a great source of comfort and strength to us all, I think. Such strange work, moving snow from place to place. But we had to react to the weather every day and do what we could to make it possible to shoot.

We could not have done it without them.

All the Finns on our crew were admirable in different ways – our transport crew were amazing – driving on roads that ranged from deeply snowy to terrifyingly icy, to sludge-covered, even to muddy when the thaw went on for more than a day. They cared for us, they kept us safe, and they showed us where the best bars were, which was perhaps the most essential thing of all.

Every day the director and I would look at the landscape and remind ourselves that this was more of a life-enriching experience than work, that to be held in the depth of the beauty gave us all the power we needed, breathed energy into us, and filled us with a daily sense of awe.

I will remember to the end of my days doing a fight sequence on a frozen lake which had started to thaw and then frozen over during the night, the thaw having made patterns and shapes in the ice which I spent the day tracing with my fingers, staring at in disbelief, not able to credit the fact that I was allowed to work on such an exquisite canvas. It didn’t matter that I was cold and had pulled every muscle in my body (a daily reminder not to start your action movie career at the age of 64). The beauty sustained me, got me through, was the source of everything, somehow. The last shot on the lake felt like a blessing from the spirit of the place – a sunset of such glory that it took away the breath and expanded the heart and soul. We were all silent in the face of it and filled with a sense of gratitude that was nothing short of spiritual.

”

Every day the director and I would look at the landscape and remind ourselves that this was more of a life-enriching experience than work.

What I am trying to say – perhaps clumsily because I am still in the middle of the thing and not quite myself – is that shooting in Finland is more than the sum of its parts, its parts being ineffable, and its people being constitutionally remarkably suited to the demands of film. Filming is wildly unpredictable, messy, complex and frustrating. Finns make light of this. If the weather is wrong, they focus on what can we do and never on what we are prevented from doing. Their attitude – at least in my experience, is born of a resolution and a resilience that I can only guess must come with the territory. The land is ever-changing, full of drama, full of change, which makes it complex and demanding. There is no point in fighting it – one must work with it, adapt to it, change with it and above all, respect it.

I would give anything to get the chance to work here again and therefore thank everyone who is working so hard to keep the AV incentive alive and kicking. I would encourage colleagues in my industry with all my heart to locate productions here – if you need dramatic landscape, it is here, if you need brave-hearted, highly sensitive and indomitable crew people, they are here, if you need comfort and a homely life, it is here. I will always be grateful for my time in Finland – I write this on my last day which I am lucky enough to be spending with friends who have a smoke sauna and an ice-hole. A final blessing from the country that I have learned to love so much and which I will miss with every fibre of my being.”