All language subtitles for Steam.of.Life.2010.FINNISH.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-VXT

Let me do your legs.

There we go.

Here...

For almost 51 years
I've washed this back.

That's good.

Do you want to stay
behind, I'm going?

Steam of Life

One thing I've noticed,
boys, about love -

and what women like,
that's massage.

Neck, shoulders, legs and
buttocks, every day.

That's our love story
right there.

If I skip one part and
try and sneak off, -

she will say: "You
missed the legs."

Or if I think she's asleep,
no: "You missed the legs."

Women are very particular about
the spots they want massaged.

I think they call them G-spots,
or what do they call them?

That's him.
- Well, then.

They all look alike.
- Those babies.

He's smiling.
- Right.

So adorable.
- Looks like his father.

He's so small and weak, it's great
to care of someone so small -

and see him growing every day.
- That's right.

I'll always remember the moment they
lifted him to his mother's arms -

and I cut the
umbilical cord. . .

And I saw the baby, his
little hands and feet...

They're home now and I was
on paternity leave -

helping to take
care of the baby.

Now one dream has come true -

and maybe God will give us
a little princess later.

That's right.

It's nice to go to the sauna...
- Damn, are you going to the sauna?

You were supposed to eat first!

Come on now!
- I won't throw this on the stoves.

Fucking hell, you go to the sauna.
- What's the soup you made?

Cabbage soup!

Really insane stories, the
things I've told you -

things you can experience
in your childhood.

Things like hidden
family violence...

When you have a stepfather and you
feel like you're in the way...

I first realized this
when I started school.

We were at the cottage, he
took me to this big rock -

where the kids always play...

He told me that I'm not
Kuosmanen, I'm Putkonen.

I was seven then, I
didn't quite get it.

I thought of him as my father.

If you think of it, nowadays
it would be unheard of...

When I got home from school,
I tried to avoid him -

and tried to look and see
if the despot is home.

You grow numb with it, always
being beaten, hit or strangled.

The most insane thing was to be
pushed down to the floor -

and a pillow was held
over my face.

And the hypocrisy, what
was shown to others...

All was well in the
artist family.

And the way it stopped for me...

I was drunk for the first time -

and came home, we had
this French balcony...

I grabbed the guy, he
was a head shorter -

and I was sporty and
well-built...

I had the upper hand, I might
have dropped him from there.

He was screaming for mercy
"Don't kill me! Help!".

And that was the end of it.

There's one more round here.

In '89, I had everything
I had always wanted.

I had a daughter, I
had a good job -

but the child had no mother.

I was a construction worker, and
my mother cared for my daughter.

She started staying over there,
I visited them often.

Then this person told me I can't come,
because the girl always cries after that.

Was your mother alone
or with someone?

My mother is married.

They adopted my daughter.

My daughter is also
my stepsister.

That's why I'm up here in the
North. I just get so sad there.

I didn't get info about her
schooling or anything, really, -

I had to threaten with lawyers.

We tried to negotiate, but they
accused and pressured me.

I lost it totally then. I've
always been a crackerjack.

I told them to draw up the papers, I
will sign them, whatever you want.

That's...

That's how we dealt with it.

Fuck, it still hurts.

More steam.

If only I could tell my
daughter, but I can't.

It's good that I can tell you.

Is it cold?
- Not warm yet.

The sun doesn't warm much.
Should have a black tub there.

You want a beer? - Sure.

It would be nice if she
came for a visit.

We could cry together. I'm
always crying alone.

Would be good for her to know. . .
- Yes, to know the reasons behind it.

In 1983, my life got
totally out of hand.

I lost my grasp of things.

I drank and got into crime.

In the summer of '84, I
committed a robbery -

and got one year for it.

I drank and drank,
that was my life.

I went into prison
that summer, -

and that started a spiral
that lasted until '93.

Once I was crossing
the street, -

I was high on drugs,
drunk or something, -

and I realized this is a part of
the plan that destroys me.

Then I got an 18-month
sentence. . . 103

I lived alone in my cell,
they do in Sweden.

In the corner, there was a
piece of metal sheet -

that served as a mirror there.

I remember looking into it -

and thinking that I'll kill
myself to end all this shit.

I had this lady friend who
visited me from Stockholm.

She came to the prison
in March and asked:

"Pertti, what happened to your eyes,
they're the eyes of a dead fish."

One prisoner tried to escape -

by splitting his gums
with a razor blade.

I had taken amphetamine one night
and just decided to escape.

I started working out, so
I broke into sweat -

and then called the guard:
"I've got stomach cramps."

I took a razor blade and made
wounds into my mouth -

and let the blood run
into a cup -

and spread it all over the place
and lay down on the floor.

That's how they found
me, unconscious.

They hooked me up to an IV, I started
running towards the door.

The guards caught me, called the
police and handcuffed me.

The warden put me into solitary,
I was a danger to others.

In the solitary, I was permitted to
sit outside on my lunch hour.

It was a beautiful day, I
sat against a trash can.

I wore shorts, had a cup of
coffee and the sky was blue.

All of a sudden, I saw a blue
butterfly in the sky.

I thought it was beautiful, hoped
it would sit on my mug.

The mug was blue and had
painted grass and flowers.

It was like summer.

So the butterfly
landed on my mug.

I hoped it would open its
wings, and so it did.

And at that moment,
something happened.

Instantly, my broken
view of the world -

was totally cleared.

At the end of February 1991, I
got out of prison in Sweden.

When I walked into the
log temple, -

I had this insight that the woman who
sits next to me will be my wife.

And so this Anu Katia Johanna sat next
to me during the introduction.

I fell in love with
her woolly socks.

She curled her toes inside the
red-and-white striped socks.

I looked at her and my
heart went all weak.

Once I came back from a run and near
the course center I thought -

that if Anu is at the front
door, I will tell her this.

I went there, and she
opened the door!

I told her: "We will
be married."

When I was young, I
told my mother:

"I want a wife from Kainuu, she
is a brown-eyed nurse."

And my wife has brown
eyes and is a nurse.

When Anu took the pregnancy test
and then she called the lab -

and she heard that the
hormone levels were up -

it was just such miracle!
That I would be a father!

After such a life!

This kind of basic life,
organized society -

this is the best I know.

I've always had empty pockets.

Now I have my family
and empty pockets.

I got married during the war -

and had two children
when I was on leave.

But then my wife got sick.

When she was still alive, if I
was away for a few hours -

I always worried if I would
find her dead or alive.

I couldn't always get the
boys to watch her.

My eldest son was there a
few times and asked me:

"How can you cope with this life
for so many years, Dad?"

But I just had to carry on, -

and you get the strength for
it as you go along.

It went on for five years
before she finally died.

Then I was alone.

I sat home alone on my bed -

and cooked whenever I wanted,
what little I wanted alone. . .

Suddenly I had this hunger
for other people.

I said myself that something
has to change in my life.

My son came to visit and
said: "Listen, Dad."

"We have to do something, you
have to get out and about" -

"or else you will
go crazy."

After my son told me that,
I got my act together -

and went to the Veterans'
Christmas Party.

I found a nice-looking
person there, -

I thought she would be nice company
if only I would dare to ask.

I finally approached her -

and asked if I could one day
come for a cup of coffee.

She said yes, and soon enough I went
there with a bunch of flowers.

That's how it started and
it still goes on -

hopefully for a long time.

We've had great companionship
and a good life.

She's a good person
and can cook -

and tells me how to do laundry
and helps me in everything.

I'm living the best
years of my life.

Well, her neighbors must
have been wondering -

when they saw another pair of
underpants on the washing line -

as she doesn't have a husband.

How long have you been together?
- For 18 years now.

Both getting older at the same time.
- Older and senile.

The police brought him here
one night in the spring.

They called and asked if there's
room for one more orphan.

I said there's always
room for one more.

That's how our
friendship started.

We went berry picking and
fishing with him.

At first, we should have picked
the berries for him.

At one point, there was a
bush full of blueberries -

so I took some branches and
told him to sit down -

so that I could teach him
how to pick blueberries.

When we had caught fish -

we had to negotiate how
to share the catch.

He was going to take all
fish. I wouldn't let him.

"I will take these and
you will take those."

Breaking things is
important to him.

If you give him a car tire, he
will tear it apart in a second.

One Saturday, we went
to the sauna.

He stayed to eat out
in the barn.

We sat in the sauna
for a while...

The doors started banging -

and he barged in from
underneath the door -

and came to the benches.

I told him I will throw some water
on the stove to get some steam.

As soon as the steam hissed he
barged out underneath the door.

I told him: "No, no don't go yet, you
haven't broken into sweat yet."

But no, he went outside,
banging the doors.

Right, Juuso.

You were Only a boy when
we had our sauna.

A very little boy...

Left without washing, did you?

Yes, that's right.

The bear has become a
real friend to me.

It's an intelligent animal,
learns very fast.

And it is a true, loyal
friend indeed.

Right, another one gone. This
is the name of the game.

Juuso! It's broken now!

I keep going back to
early spring...

We still had snow.

There was a spring happening for
children on the lake ice.

I was playing with
my daughter, -

sledding down the hill,
eating grilled sausages.

She went on a pony ride. Think
what an experience for a child!

Every time I went to get her she
ran to me with her arms open:

"Daddy, I want to go home with
you! I miss you so much."

I have two cats, she says: "To
see Mikku and Okku at home!"

It's so wrong.
- Well, it tears you apart.

Think about it: You don't see your
child for example for 13 years!

How long has it been now?

Well, how long has it been...

I had just received the
Appellate Court order -

with all the visiting rights.

Not as extensive as
I had wanted..

As soon as the court
process was over -

and the decision was, like
9 times out of 10 -

that the custody was taken
from the father.

Every other weekend and one
weekday, that's it.

Nothing else mattered.

As soon as the process was over, the
mother refused to give the child.

We were visiting grandma for the
last time with the girl, -

we played together -

when my ex just announced that she
won't allow visitations anymore.

This is now September, I haven't
seen or heard of her.

I don't even know if they
live here any more.

The authorities can't do anything
without court orders.

I should go to court and get an order
forcing her to let me see the child.

And of course, family and
friends miss her also.

Her godfather, grandmother
and everyone else.

They keep asking about
her and crying...

Her grandmother is
getting old, -

she cried if she will
ever see Inka again.

I told her I don't
know the answer.

I don't mind suffering, but
my girl is so young...

She's not yet three, -

she doesn't have
long-term memory yet.

I think my daughter doesn't remember
who her father is any more.

That really hurts.

If only I could hold her.

If she would run towards me
and jump into my arms.

"Let's go home and see
Okku and Mikka."

I remember my grandpa, when
I was a little boy.

I used to walk to their place
and he'd be chopping wood.

Grandma was inside,
cooking, doing chores.

When grandma was in a bad mood,
grandpa would stop us -

and ask us: "Is it still
stormy in the South?"

He meant: "Is your
grandmother still angry?"

I asked grandpa how old the
oldest logs were in the shed.

He thought about it and
then said: "11 years."

Time passed. Grandpa
chopped wood -

and grandma was either in
a good or a bad mood.

Then grandpa got dementia and
had to go to a nursing home.

When we visited him, we
told him everyday news -

but he wasn't interested.

When we spent quiet time with
him, he would then ask -

where the end of the
wood pile was, -

had it reached the wall
on the river side?

After four years grandpa found out
that his woodpile was running low.

He cried and apologized -

for not having chopped
enough wood.

Afterwards, when I've
thought about it, -

I realized -

that he wanted to chop
enough wood -

to last until the end of
grandmother's life.

That's when I realized -

how manifold love can be.

Pete, the oars are squeaking.

I do love boats.
- That's right.

When the Frog went
a-courting Aha, Aha. . .

There's only one aha.

But where is he going?
- I'm going to Bulgaria.

What else will we take?

Sunscreen.
- Sunscreen, we have to take it.

If I forget it, what will
we do? I burn easily.

Then we put yogurt on your back.

What other clothes
shall we take?

The bikini.
- What bikini?

You know.

The plane flies high up.
- In the sky.

Where's the sky?

It's getting cloudy.

What? - Getting cloudy.

You should be honest
with others.

Have you been the best friend?

I have been for a long time,
already as a child.

So have I.
- I've been honest to everyone.

I've never stolen anything.
You have to ask always.

You have to be honest.

My best friend. I'm
the best friend.

All's well and in balance.
- All's in order.

Interesting, this is somehow mild.
- Yes, mild.

It has a lot of soul.
Touch of leather.

Light as the touch of
a summer fairy.

The touch of a summer virgin.

Right after swimming in the sea.

I've been to all army saunas
there possibly are -

from a battalion sauna to a
one-man tent sauna, -

and in Afghanistan, in
a Swedish sauna -

which differs from a Stockholm sauna in
that the newspaper is 2 weeks late.

How have you recovered from
getting back from the tour?

I had to work a few weeks -

to get myself back into
the regiment books.

I tried to adapt to
being back home.

Some bad things happened to
me during that year away.

My mother died and my
relationship fell apart.

And you can't really process
those things out there, -

you have to concentrate
on the task at hand.

And you know, I work out a lot.

I poured all that anxiety and
bad feelings into workouts.

What was it like when the Chaplain
brought the message?

If I remember correctly, -

my then girlfriend just
called me on my mobile -

and told me to sit down,
she had bad news.

Well, that was that.

The Chief-of-Staff and the Chaplain
met me on the club house...

The Chief immediately
started arranging -

for me to be on the
next flight home -

so that I can go bury my mother.

Me and Jari Rankinen went to
the chapel to have a...

Take a moment. - Yes.

We lit a candle and read a
passage from the Bible.

I could have hardened myself,
as I did before -

and claim that I didn't
feel anything.

But now that I actually felt something,
it was easier to bear it.

In a military organization, showing
softness and weakness -

is not necessarily a strength. You
can be soft and weak in private.

You can't show it there.
- No, you can't.

And Finnish men have
traditionally been very tough.

I haven't regretted joining the
army. It has saved me.

I can't say a bad word.

The man and the job belong
together, in this case.

Will your son continue
in your footsteps?

Well. . . I'm happy to say he listens
to Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin.

Last week he cut his long
hair, so no more moshing.

But the signs are good.
- Yes.

His own words, said with a smile:
"Join the army? Seriously!"

He has been watching
me and Jari -

and thought how
ridiculous it is.

But we do it with a big heart.

Whatever my son decides, if he
does it from his heart...

If he decides that he won't
do the military service -

and it comes from his heart, I
will totally stand by him.

Happy Independence Day.

When they ask children
to sing to Santa, -

then you feel like saying: "Let's
just get to the presents."

Today there was one family where
nobody wanted to sing.

Then I wanted to hand out the presents,
but no, the lady didn't want that.

But you don't want to leave
after five minutes either.

You don't earn your money.
- All the homes had kids in there.

Have you noticed that
when Santa comes in, -

they ofter you the best chair
or a place on the sofa.

But I have one family, I
won't mention names -

where Santa gets a servant's chair,
and it's halfway in the doorway.

A bit like taking some distance.

They're so far away I feel like
shouting or taking a mic.

Today I had a place where they
left me on the doorstep!

They cleared some space there,
but it really annoyed me -

I couldn't even get in, had
to shout from the door.

And usually Santa is
the guest of honor.

You know the Suzuki four-wheel drive?
- Yes, I know.

How many people does it seat?

Well, it takes in...

About a dozen people.

Well, we were 21 in there.
Driving in there.

Who drove it? How come?
- The owner.

It must have been a tight squeeze.
- You bet.

The only ones that
are still alive -

are me and the owner
of the car...

All the others have
kicked the bucket.

Like my wife last summer.

They first knocked on the
door before six a.m.

Then they rang the doorbell. I
said: "Leena, where are you?"

"Who's at the door now?" But
there was nobody there.

When I opened the door,
it was two policemen.

They asked if I was so and so, I said yes.
They had a message.

They said it was about my wife, or
that do you know so and so. . .

I said yes, she's my wife.

They said: "These are her
rings and belongings."

"Our divers have just found her,
she drowned in the sea."

She's in Hietaniemi,
at the cemetery.

She had a good funeral.

I have to take it one
day at a time.

She was everything to me.

I want to break a sweat.

OK, go ahead.

Are you going to barbecue me?
- That's what I planned.

So where to now?

Downtown?

I've been on the Esplanade,
50 cents for a flat.

Oh yes. It has all the
modern conveniences.

No, I have a sleeping bag.
- I see.

But how do you fit in there?
- Into the toilet?

It's not that big.
- The big one.

I see, the big one.
- It costs 50 cents per night.

Per day. So you
recommend?

Indoor plumbing and everything.

So you decided to come here?
- It was in the early 90's.

Matti asked me to come
and pan for gold.

I had no ties in the South,
so I stayed here.

I had nothing to go
back to there.

Bit like me, the same thing.
- Yes, that's right.

A bit similar, yes.

And it's good up here.

It's about two years ago when
I met my present wife.

And it's been going well.
- My age protects me from that.

Yes, your age helps,
protects you from women.

Well, not too much.
- I see.

They come and hug me.

One time at a work trip,
something bad happened.

They didn't warn us about men
working on the tracks.

We were taking a plaster train
to 'c4k'e4slompolo.

To the cement factory.
- I see.

There was this guy, standing
on a small bridge.

He was waving a red flag!

I acknowledged it and braked
as hard as I could.

He started running in
front of the train.

Splash, splash.

He didn't get out in time?
- No. He tried to save his friend.

I see.

I still have nightmares
about it.

It was only about 10 cars away.
The boys were under the cars.

But their death was...
- Instantaneous.

No suffering, not lying in
the hospital for long.

Later, I met one's sister and
the other one's wife...

Shouldn't have said
anything about this.

Sometimes it's good to talk.

I don't know if you noticed, -

but for years, it was hard to see
other families with twins.

Yes, I noticed, we didn't
have much contact then.

Understandable, in a way.

You can't wish this
on anyone else.

That one of the twins is dead.

When I saw other twin families,
I became so jealous.

And I couldn't accept my own
feelings. That was very hard.

And even today, I don't want to
look at baby twins in prams.

But it has changed with time.

It's a bit corny, two years
and two months...

I'm not a superstitious person -

but I keep thinking that
Iida was a twin, -

and we got our second child
on our second try -

as there was a
miscarriage first...

And then the second child dies when
she's 2 years and 2 months.

Feels like the figure 2 is all
used up in our family.

I had just commented the
previous night -

that we are given as
much as we can take.

And boy did we get some.

That was a normal Thursday, -

I had a coffee meeting for
entrepreneurs in the morning.

I left, Minna and the kids woke
up, it was summer holiday.

The meeting took a few hours.

I went out to my car -

and listened to my messages.

I was a bit surprised -

at how many messages I had.

It was the third message...

A woman's voice said:

"It's the answering
service."

"Shall we leave
a message?"

Another woman
says: "Yes."

A woman is crying in
the background.

The message said then:

"Please call the
health center."

My first thought was:

"Now it's happening."

A strange relief...

I don't have to be
afraid any more.

I called the number.

I told who I am, -

and they put the call through.

And Minna answered.

Then I knew Minna is OK.

I asked which one
or all of them.

Minna said it was Iida.

She told me what happened.

I started the car, my
hands were shaking.

I thought I'll never get there.

During that drive, I only
had three thoughts.

That she's there, happy
and smiling, -

thinking how she scared us.

The second one was -

that she was a vegetable.

I realized that if you
don't breathe, -

the brain damage is immediate.

And the third one
was: she's dead.

The mood went from happy to sad.

And then I just screamed.

I got to the health care center.

Minna is walking towards me.

She says that Iida is dead.

There was bench -

and we sat down and cried.

Minna asked if I wanted
to see Iida.

Afterwards I realized -

I didn't want it at that moment.

When we go inside and
get to Iida...

It's strange, a dead child...

Does not look like
herself at all.

I felt like...

That when the soul has left -

the body looks different.

She didn't look like Iida.

Then they told us after a while
that we should go home -

and the child should be
taken to the morgue.

We walked her there.

There were piles of laundry
along the corridors.

There was a little lounge
and we left Iida there.

I couldn't bear watching it.

That they will put the child
into a dark, cold room.

An unbearable thought.

We went to see Iida a few times
at the health center morgue -

before she was taken to
Tampere for autopsy.

I could never go in there, -

I had to ask the staff
to take Iida out.

The thought of darkness and
cold was just unbearable.

She always liked warmth.

I always thought that life is ruled
with rationale and theories -

and intellect and head. I've been
a real robot, machine head.

Then you lose your child, and
there is no reason, -

it's all pure emotion. How can you
deal with that rationally?

Very contradictory emotions, -

like when Minna, Roosa and Essi
were there and Iida died.

That raises mixed emotions.

I was angry at myself for
not being there, -

a man should protect his family.

I let down my family.

On the other hand, I was jealous
to Minna for being there.

I've talked to other fathers
whose children have died -

about what we have learned as
children about coping with this.

What are the options for boys?

Being silent and drinking.
"Boys don't cry."

When you think of the situation,
it's no wonder -

that you don't know how to act when
you're next to your dead child.

You try to look for a norm
that isn't there.

Later, you realize. . .

I was just looking for a way to act,
a way to continue my life.

I had this surreal thought that if I'm
ever in this situation again -

I would want to scream. Just
scream everything out.

When I was younger, I thought you
should manage everything alone.

I don't need help, I
don't need sympathy.

I'm fed up with it, I don't
want to be alone.

I want to share things.

Only now I understood that
solitude is the worst thing.

Only knowing you are not alone
is an incredible relief.

Sweetly the squirrel baby
Sleeps on her mossy bed

Never reached by hounds
Nor snared by hunters

Safe in her nest

From her cocoon high up
She looks upon the world

After seeing so many fights
The peace flag of her home tree

Is flying over her head

Oh to live happily In the
swinging cradle up so high

Squirrel nesting forever In
the gentle arms of the tree

Hear the song of the woods

That's where the furry cutie
Is sleeping on her window

Birds on the skies
Are singing lullabies

Taking her to The
sweet land of dreams

This film is dedicated
to Finnish men

English Subtitles: Tiina
Kinnunen / Media Context