Now streaming on Netflix, ‘Little Siberia’ (Pieni Siperia, 2025) marks a powerful return to form for Finnish director Dome Karukoski, whose previous works (Tom of Finland, The Grump) have already established him as one of Finland’s most distinctive cinematic voices. Based on Antti Tuomainen’s acclaimed novel, and co-written by Karukoski, Minna Panjanen, and Tuomainen himself, the film blends dark humour, metaphysical reflection, and Arctic melancholy into a sharp Nordic noir about faith, betrayal, and the search for meaning in a world that has lost its sense of wonder.
A Meteorite Falls on Hurmevaara
The story unfolds in the remote Finnish village of Hurmevaara, nicknamed “Little Siberia” for its punishing cold and isolation. One night, a meteorite crashes into the local lake — an event that will upend not just the life of the village, but especially that of its priest, Joel (Eero Ritala). A war veteran haunted by his past in Afghanistan, Joel has been living quietly with his wife Krista (Malia Malmivaara). When she announces an unexpected pregnancy, the news strikes Joel like a second cosmic impact: years earlier, a doctor had told him that he was sterile due to injuries sustained in combat. What follows is a moral and spiritual odyssey: Joel oscillates between viewing the pregnancy as a miracle and as a sign of betrayal. The meteorite, glowing and mysterious, becomes a symbol of divine intervention — or perhaps a cruel cosmic joke. When rumours spread about the object’s immense material value, the priest takes it upon himself to protect it from thieves and opportunists, as though defending both his faith and his fragile sense of meaning.
Between Faith and Disbelief
At its heart, Little Siberia is less about crime and more about the quiet wars within the human soul. Joel is not a man of simple faith; rather, he is a man searching for faith amid doubt, a seeker who perceives in the meteorite a riddle, a possible message from a reality beyond the one ruled by greed, pride, and cynicism. The film turns the frozen landscape of Northern Finland into a metaphor for spiritual desolation — a place where people have forgotten how to believe in something larger than themselves. Karukoski frames this struggle with poetic restraint: the stark whiteness of snow becomes both purity and emptiness, the flickering northern lights a glimpse of transcendence above a world numbed by materialism. As Joel’s paranoia and longing for meaning grow, the story moves between existential drama and dark comedy, maintaining the distinctive tone that has made Tuomainen’s novels internationally beloved.
A Finnish Parable for Modern Times
Little Siberia ultimately functions as a parable of our times, told through the lens of Nordic absurdism. It asks: what happens when faith — not just religious faith, but faith in purpose, in humanity, in the invisible bonds between people — collapses under the weight of cold rationality? The supporting cast, including Teemu Aromaa, Martti Suosalo, Jenni Banerjee, Rune Temte, and Tommi Korpela, enriches this meditation with strong, grounded performances. Each character, in their own way, reflects a fragment of a fractured world: greedy, fearful, yearning for warmth.
A Meteorite Worth Defending
By the film’s conclusion, the meteorite is no longer just a lump of cosmic rock — it is a mirror of the human condition. Joel’s mission to guard it becomes a fight to preserve the last spark of mystery in a universe that seems determined to explain everything away. In this way, Little Siberia belongs firmly within the Nordic tradition of existential cinema — echoing Bergman’s questions about God and doubt, Kaurismäki’s dry humour, and the stoic poetry of Finland’s landscapes. It is a darkly luminous tale about the thin line between disbelief and revelation, where the frozen silence of the north hides the most human of cries: the longing for meaning.
Streaming now on Netflix, “Little Siberia” is a must-watch for anyone drawn to the unique blend of Finnish realism, absurdity, and transcendence — a story where the divine might just fall from the sky.
By the All Things Nordic Editorial Team
