Forbrydelsen

Sarah Lund and her inexhaustible collection of horrible, wooly Scandinavian sweaters as unifying links in a series about the twenty-day investigation into the murder of a high-school girl from Copenhagen. A case where nothing is as it seems; and no, owls play no part here, despite the fact that many (wrongly) mention Twin Peaks in connection with this series. Season one (yes, and the standalone, ten episode season two) puts its money on “differentness" and almost shyness in their procedures that were typical for series ten years ago. This is more a political and human drama working with (both the characters’ and the viewers’) feelings than a standard crime series. One of its peculiarities lies in the fact that all the action is shown exclusively from the point of view of four characters. Detective Sarah Lund (investigation and sacrifice of her personal life; don’t expect a tough girl with a gun, she’s more of a “Wallander"), a politician on his way up, Troels Hartmann (political tricks and intrigue before the coming mayor elections; to begin with strikingly similar to the Palmer storyline in season one of 24 and later State of Play) and the parents of the murdered girl, the Birk Larsons (impact on family, coming to terms with tragedy, reaction of those around them, thirst for revenge). Which in the end means that nine out of ten events fundamental for the story take place off screen. This is most evident in the crime storyline, where the investigation gets almost no space; Sarah’s partner does all the work: he finds, interrogates, catches, but we see nothing of this, but just find out from Sarah talking on the phone. Paradoxically, the crime part will probably be the greatest stumbling block of the series. Knowing that it has twenty episodes of unbroken story, it is clear from the first moment that subplots for two or three episodes in the style of “other suspects who did it beyond a doubt" lead nowhere. The creators take too long revealing what the viewer has known for a long time; because, from the very start, half of every episode is about politics, city hall and elections, then it’s no surprise that in the end the investigations turn its focus to that. In the same way, it is no problem to guess the murderer, and I had the feeling that after the final revelation a lot of aspects remained where, looking back, logic was lacking... Despite all these complaints, I do not hesitate in calling this one of the most interesting addition to the new-wave serial old-school crime dramas. (07/02/2012)

The problem of the first series is: 1. that the concept wasn’t handled well, and 2. the non-establishment of the form. My first point roughly means that twenty episodes amount to so many twists and false clues that in episode 17, it seems that the film crew also starts getting arrested. The detectives act like affected lunatics for whom the blame stems from a single (albeit indirect) piece of evidence. The problem, after all, is that some "sidetracks" just give the impression of purposeful retardation of the plot, and moreover, in that amount of deceptive ballast, one begins to become a little isolated from the details of the case. Point two means that the first about 3 episodes look like a typical television detective story with an unattractive visual. Only the arrival of the experienced Henrik Ruben Genz makes it an interesting and dark spectacle with an imaginative use of "psychological" details. Otherwise, I'm satisfied - the idea with three parallel levels is quite good, although the family storyline sometimes fails to go anywhere. A huge positive is the cast, led by the incredibly charismatic Lars Mikkelsen (oh those family genes) and a lot of characters who, in their indistinctness, acquire typically Nordic contours of clenched and obsessed weirdos (this is especially true of the central duo). I simply appreciate The Killing as a bold attempt to show the investigation as a drama full of mistakes and personal tragedies. The ending is flawless, not so much because it is surprising, but rather because it perfectly respects anti-happy endings. (26/01/2013)

I first came across the Danish series The Killing in two commendable reviews raving about the qualities of this top series, which supposedly represents a completely new level of TV production. The mental processes of intellectuals are unpredictable, so I took this information with a grain of salt because its author had recently praised the film Bastards, one of the biggest failures of Czech cinema in recent years. However, the rating on FilmBooster (albeit with a low number of ratings) was also positive. In the end, I decided to give The Killing a try, but even after four episodes, it is not clear to me what the proclaimed exceptional quality of the series is because, before my eyes, it unfolded as a fairly standard TV detective story unreasonably divided into 20 episodes, for which I have neither the patience nor the desire. If David Lynch once directed Twin Peaks, his focus was not actually on the investigation of a specific crime, and the attraction for viewers lay in the hypnotic atmosphere and fascinating changing characters. Spending twenty hours of my life watching the investigation of a single criminal case is beyond my abilities, despite the likable investigator and the charisma of Lars Mikkelsen as an ambitious player in the political arena. I get the feeling that watching a single episode of Breaking Bad brings me greater satisfaction due to better character development and handling than four hours spent in the presence of these Scandinavians. Stephen King claims that an impatient reader who skips to the end of a book to prematurely find out the ending commits the worst literary crime. I committed a similar offense when I guessed the potential culprit after the fourth episode and then found out that I had hit the mark - which may testify to my genius, but rather to the fact that, despite its reputation, The Killing is too predictable for my taste. In this case, however, I will refrain from giving stars and a percentage rating... (13/02/2013)