Aki Kaurismäki developed a consistent visual style early in his career, and it’s remained recognizable for many years. His movies typically feature working-class individuals facing hardship, with their emotions expressed through an emotionless, flat delivery. The settings are usually bleak industrial areas and decaying docks. In 1990, Kaurismäki transported this established approach, which he'd honed in Helsinki, to London with *I HIRED A CONTRACT KILLER*. This isn’t a depiction of the wealthy side of London—no royals or high society figures here. It was remarkable how Kaurismäki located such run-down places that I wouldn’t have thought existed in London back then; they've probably been renovated beyond recognition by now. Henri Boulanger (Jean-Pierre Léaud), a quiet Frenchman living alone in London, had worked for a government utility company for fifteen years. After losing his job due to privatization under Thatcher, he felt like his life was over. He tried to take his own life twice, but both attempts failed comically, and he lacked the nerve to try again. So, he decided to enter London’s criminal world and pay someone to kill him. The crime boss accepted his money and promised it would be handled by a third party. However, when Henri meets Margaret (Margi Clarke) and begins to open up, he has second thoughts. Unable to cancel the contract, Henri and Margaret try to avoid the hitman (Kenneth Colley), who is already tracking him. Kaurismäki’s films are generally dark comedies, and this one provides some moments of humor. I also appreciated the nods to filmmakers who influenced Kaurismäki. The portrayal of Colley's melancholy hitman and how he’s framed in the shots clearly references Jean-Pierre Melville’s later crime movies. Kaurismäki’s fondness for drab locations was amplified by his new friendship with Jim Jarmusch, a director who showcased America as consisting largely of empty lots and abandoned buildings at that time. Despite this, I don't consider it to be one of Kaurismäki's finest achievements. A significant part of what makes his Finnish films so funny is the use of formal language—essentially another language compared to everyday speech. The humor doesn’t quite work as well when the dialogue is in English and features a variety of British accents. Jean-Pierre Léaud’s English isn’t easy to understand; he's been an important figure in French cinema since the New Wave with Truffaut and Godard, but his English skills aren’t strong enough for English-language films. Kaurismäki may have intended this effect, but it felt awkward to me. I would suggest this film only to people who are already familiar with Kaurismäki's better work from that period, like the "Proletariat Trilogy."

Source on TMDB