Olavi [Heikki Nousiainen] runs a small art dealership that is barely staying afloat and longs for one last, meaningful deal before the shutters come down. When his teenage grandson Otto [Amos Brotherus] arrives at the gallery demanding work experience, Olavi bluntly says there is no work to be had. Yet the arrival of Lea [Pirjo Lonka], Olavi’s daughter and Otto’s mother, who is estranged from him, changes the equation: she pleads with him to take Otto on because no one else will, given Otto’s record of misbehavior, including theft. With a wary sense of obligation and a glimmer of hope for redemption, Olavi reluctantly agrees to mentor the boy.
Olavi’s mind is on a more restless quest as well: a small unsigned portrait that might depict a Russian monk or peasant has captured his imagination. He wants to research it for an upcoming auction, but the library won’t send books, and the shop’s financial squeeze weighs heavily on him. He is stubborn about keeping the gallery open long enough to clinch a sale, even as the prospect of losing everything grows more real. Otto, half curious, half skeptical, joins in the pursuit of the painting’s mystery, and Olavi tries to instill a spark of genuine love for art in the boy. Together they turn their attention to a work by Hugo Simberg, Iltaa kohti, a piece that presents a tender, almost paradoxical portrait of two people: an old man at the end of life and a young boy at the beginning. The painting becomes a touchstone for their evolving dynamic, and Olavi ways to see in Otto a sliver of promise.
As the hunt for the truth about the unsigned portrait deepens, Olavi stumbles upon a clue in a small catalogue: a listing for a painting described as Kristus 33 x 41 cm, olja på duk (Christ, 33 x 41 cm, oil on canvas). The dimensions match, but there is no photograph to confirm its provenance. He scoffs at Otto’s suggestion to Google it, yet Otto presses on and discovers the address of the woman who lent the painting to the exhibition. He travels there himself, enters a care facility, and, posing as a distant relative, convinces the nurse to let him see what remains. She points him toward whatever can be salvaged, and Otto goes to work.
Back at the gallery, Olavi, after failing to secure money through traditional means, ends up purchasing the rumored painting for €12,000 plus fees. He shares a photo of the work with his close friend and fellow dealer, Pertti Sveholm (Patu) and reveals the name attached to it—the artist’s name that suggests immense value. The moment becomes a rare win in a world where losses stack up quickly, and Otto, excited by the sale, bonds with Olavi as Olavi explains the thrill of convincing someone to see what the nurse saw in Otto’s audacious intrusion. Lea visits the gallery, and the two share a quiet reminiscence about her childhood experiences among Olavi’s paintings.
Desperation pushes Olavi to push further. He arranges a financing plan, even inviting his daughter to dinner to discuss money—only to be rebuffed. Undeterred, he quietly secures several thousand euros and, in a bold move, takes on an extra loan tied to his business mortgage. Just as the funds are handed over, a crucial document confirming the painting’s provenance lands in his mailbox: the work is actually connected to a high-profile Russian master, and its true value suddenly becomes undeniable. Lea learns of the loan and demands immediate repayment.
In a bid to salvage a sale, Olavi lines up a potential buyer who expresses intense interest, but the buyer fails to show up on the day of the auction. Olavi carries the painting to the buyer anyway, but the buyer refuses, leaving Olavi in deeper debt. He must liquidate the gallery and relocate his collection to his apartment, a precarious shift that speaks to the fragility of his life’s work.
A wrenching turn comes when Patu reveals that the auction house had the complete provenance all along but neglected to organize the paperwork properly, casting doubt on the sale. Olavi confronts the auctioneer in a tense scene; the auctioneer suggests canceling the purchase, but Olavi refuses to back down. The subsequent mail reveals another twist: an art historian from the Stockholm Museum voices a professional opinion that the painting is not unsigned because it is a forgery, but because it is an icon—a Christ portrait meant to glorify the divine, and icons have no painter’s signature.
In the days that follow, Olavi’s old gallery is refurbished as if nothing had happened, and a sense of mortality settles in when he dies while tending to his apartment. After the funeral, the auctioneer’s assessment of Olavi’s collection goes on, but he claims nothing is valuable—no painting, not even the unsigned Christ piece. Lea is willing to part with the work, yet Otto objects, and Patu arrives with a stubborn reminder: the painting has been left to Otto in Olavi’s will. The story closes with Olavi’s voice in a letter to his daughter, apologizing for not being around more and praising Otto as an “excellent plus” student, as Lea travels home with the painting to pass it along to her son.
The tale settles on a quiet, bittersweet resonance: a life spent chasing a dream of art, a family drawn into its orbit, and the stubborn belief that value can be found in even the most uncertain pieces of a man’s legacy.
