Laura Birn. Photo by Marica Rosengard.

Scandinavians have a dark sense of irony. Let’s face it, for six months of the year they have a dark sense of everything. But the precision of their humour is more poignant than the potent depths of the solstice or the agonising salty “moreness” of their liquorice (this is not an euphemism – one bite of Finnish salmiakki and I was hooked for life).

The global success of Scandicrime crimewriters such as Stieg Larsson, Peter Høeg or Jo Nesbø is a testament to the lowering brilliance of Nordic noir. Which is why Laura Birn, with her tensile beauty and ethereal charm, is such a fitting ambassador for the unexpected dour wittiness of the three Finnish films in the first Australian Scandinavian Film Festival. The Festival is screening now and will run until the end of the month in seven cities across the country.

Finland is fielding three films, “21 Ways to Ruin a Marriage”, “August Fools” and “Heart of a Lion”. The first two are comedies, the third one is most definitely not.

Rewind. Finland has its own eponymous noun – “Finlandisation” (Finnish: suomettuminen), or the process by which a small country adapts to a supersised neighbour (the USSR) without losing its identity, and its own Monty Python anthem. It’s also got one of the longest histories of cinematography in the world, with a tradition of wacky, brooding and whimsical transnational film. So nothing can be that straightforward.

“August Fools” is the story of a Cold War love between a clairvoyant Finnish milliner and a Czech musician. Life trapped between ideological superpowers and choices forced on people by the politics of exclusion is not exactly the material of rib-tickling laughter but Birn, who plays the younger hat maker in flashback mode, is an Ariel-like avatar of all that is summer albeit trapped in the frozen grip of endless night.

The sun seems to dip well below the horizon in “Heart of a Lion”, an unflinching exploration of love and loyalty and the ugly, brutal face of national socialism in all its forms. Here too, however, I found myself giggling at the lightening flash of sardonic wit. “I fight for honour, for my country,” says the Nazi in an attempt to impress his girl. “Swear on your dick,” she retorts. And the game is on.

Birn plays Sari, a waitress who falls in love with neo-Nazi gang leader Tebbo but initially resists his muscular Aryan charms because of Rhamu her son, whose father is an African Muslim immigrant. “It’s a fairy tale,” says Birn. “Dome [Karukoski, the director] wants to reach the mainstream public because the message is important. It’s not reality but it does address the real and dangerous undercurrent of racism that exists in Europe.”

It’s also a cinematic gem, which won critical acclaim at the 2013 Toronto International Film Festival and which is compelling because of the deep contradictions that sparkle and smoulder in the hearts of us all. “No one is beyond hope,” says Birn intently. “People do horrible things but when you get into their character you can find things that you can love about them, and even forgive them.”

It’s a tough job to make that contradiction shine, but Birn has done it before as a young Estonian woman in Antti Jokinen’s Purge (2012). Her luminous performance deftly negotiated the complex relationships of rape, betrayal and finally redemption and won her wide critical acclaim in the national Jussi Awards and as an international Shooting Star, an industry initiative to link Europe’s brightest and best with agents in the US.

I’m no film industry expert, but I suspect that Birn has “what it takes” to make it in Hollywood. She wears her gossamer beauty with the nonchalance of the girl next door, freckles sprinkled like fairy dust on her perfect clear skin. But she appreciates the down-to-earth solidarity of her home. “Helsinki is a small city, we all know who we are. I can’t imagine leaving my friends, my family and the streets I have known from childhood.”

It was, however, a journey to the light, warmth and samba in the depths of Finnish midwinter that brought Birn to where she is now. At 17 she set off for Brazil, where she fell in with some artistic types. “I love to travel,” she says, her blue eyes dancing. “I discovered theatre in Brazil but it was several years before I realised that I could be paid for doing what I love.”

Beneath the gauze is a will of steel, however, and work ethic that would do her country proud. Birn speaks five languages and has studied hard to capture the quicksilver dialectics of humanity under stress. “I like the challenge of taking on a character who has been outcast, rejected even by themselves, and finding that strength that is in us all to love and be loved.”

An anthem for our times, if ever there was one.

the essentials

What: The inaugural Scandinavian Film Festival
When: Screening until Sunday 20 July 2014
Where: Palace Electric Cinema
How much: Tickets from $15. Multi-film passes and group bookings also available.
Web: www.scandinavianfilmfestival.com