The Road is Cold and Dark Ahead: The Days That Confused and Neoliberalization in Estonia
The Days That Confused, Triin Ruumet (2016)
Above all, The Days That Confused is a striking analysis of the bizarre 1990s in Estonia, evoking long-suppressed, bittersweet memories of a decade that was indeed confusing in terms of both individual and collective experience. Truth be told, in the mid- to late-1990s I was about the same age as some of the characters in the film, and although I grew up in the capital city of Tallinn, rather than in a rural setting represented in Triin Ruumet's film, the atmosphere of The Days That Confused rhymes almost perfectly with my own (teenage) recollections of the period. The embarrassing fashion choices—those agonizingly ugly button-ups and sweaters, as well as the Adidas and (especially!) Kappa tracksuits—abounded in both rural and urban surroundings, becoming synonymous with the sweaty, intoxicated, brutal era. But perhaps the most important factor in establishing an authentic "feel" of those years in Estonia, at least for those who have first-hand experience of them, is the soundtrack of the film, comprised of numerous local pop hits of the time, among others the iconic track Lootus (Hope) by Jaanika Sillamaa, the first Estonian singer to enter the Eurovision Song Contest in 1993.
Observing the tragicomic wanderings of a young man on the awkward threshold of adulthood, Ruumet makes a solid contribution to the immense pool of coming-of-age stories. Metaphorically, however, the film also tells a coming-of-age story of an entire nation. The Days That Confused zooms in on a period in recent Estonian history that was shaped by its position between two significant milestones—the restoration of independent statehood in 1991 and joining European Union and NATO in 2004.
Throughout the Singing Revolution (1987–1991), the (ethnically) Estonian community experienced an unprecedented degree of almost transcendent unanimity, accompanied by promises of sticking out whatever material hardships ("eating potato peels, if necessary," as the press repeatedly announced) in the name of the long-awaited restoration of independence. A somewhat comparable sense of public agreement surfaced during the 2003 Estonian European Union membership referendum, with over two thirds of registered voters, a turnout of 64.1%, supporting the accession.
The Days That Confused, Triin Ruumet (2016)
The difference between these two points of time was that in 1991 society at large perceived itself as a collective force, with everyone having equal opportunities in terms of individual prospects—there was hope for everyone to "make it" in life. By 2004, however, the country had reached the point of irreversible atomization and social stratification as a result of rampant neoliberalization—the doctrine of choice for the emerging political elite. By the end of the decade it was clear that for the majority of the inhabitants of Estonia (both "the natives" and especially the sizable Russian community, about 1/3 of the population) this reckless embrace of neoliberal—and in its initial phase particularly brutal—capitalism translated to poverty rather than prosperity. Indeed, as OECD statistics indicate, from a financial point of view the majority of the Estonian population was losing during the so-called transition period—real wages plummeted in the early 1990s, reaching a low point with 36% of the 1990 salary level in 1993, and stayed below the 1990 level for the entire decade (1).
As a result of this economic shock therapy, Estonian society disintegrated into winners and losers, the rich and powerful versus the poor and powerless. The insurmountable social cleavage came to be known as the problem of "two Estonias," according to the title of a polemical open letter published by a group of Estonian social researchers in the daily Postimees on April 23, 2001.
The Days That Confused offers its audience a long, hard look into this forking world, ruled by survival instincts and dog-eat-dog principles rather than patriotic sentiments or legislation enforced by governmental institutions. The ruthless, yet curiously tormented and dog-loving business shark Pontu (a common Estonian name for mixed-breed dogs), a local timber "magnate" occupying the top of the food chain, is an early-capitalist businessman par excellence, seeking a fast buck and throwing decadent parties. If Ruumet were ever to direct a sequel to her debut film, Pontu would probably feature as a respected entrepreneur, perhaps even an established politician—these kinds of curricula vitae are not uncommon in Estonia today as many current members of the elite started out much like Pontu in the 1990s.
The Days That Confused, Triin Ruumet (2016)