After the success of the Scandi-inflected Broadchurch, ITV has elected to go to the source for its next bout of Nordic Noir by signing up The Bridge creator and lead writer Hans Rosenfeldt to write an original crime noir for the channel in the form of Marcella.
Although Rosenfeldt’s writing is not without its rough edges (there’s a jarring problem with the plotting of the first season of The Bridge for example) I’m generally speaking an enthusiastic fan of his work, to the extent that I recent read and enjoyed his novel featuring Swedish profiler Sebastian Bergman co-written with Wallander producer Michael Hjorth. Bergman himself is a clear riff off Robbie Coltrane’s anti-social character in Cracker augmented with an unnecessary tragic past, but the case (the murder of a high school teen in a suburban community) and the high-profile investigating team of officers with different specialisms dispatched from the capital make the novel very readable. Originally called Dark Secret it was retitled Sebastian Bergman in the UK to tie in with the Swedish mini-series that was made from it; a sequel called The Man Who Watched Women has since followed, and The Man Who Wasn’t There is published in June.
Rosenfeldt is clearly partial, therefore, to having an unforgivably anti-social lead protagonist: as well as Bergman (who goes out of his way to wind people up) and The Bridge’s Saga Noren (who does it unknowingly because of her pseudo-autistic personality), we can now add former detective Marcella Backland, the eponymous star of ITV’s new eight-part murder-mystery played by Anna Friel who is arguably still best known for her stint on British soap Brookside in the early 1990s. Read the rest of this entry »
Contains spoilers for the first two episodes
It’s been two long years since the second season of The Bridge was first broadcast, and while BBC4 had kept its Nordic Noir slot warm with some very decent propositions in the meantime – ranging from the ambitious sweeping historical epic 1864 to the perfectly professional if slightly pedestrian police procedural Beck – there’s still been nothing to compare with The Bridge, which might just prove be the high water mark of Scandinavian crime drama.
Or is it?
The trouble is that after so long away there’s always the risk that a series’ actual qualities might have grown in the mind out of all proportion to reality, an unhealthy dose of rose-tinted memories take over resulting in unachievable expectations for when the show does finally return. Certainly for me there was a degree of nervousness as the opening titles began, just in case this new season wasn’t going to be up to the sort of standards that I’d built up for it in my own mind in the meantime. Read the rest of this entry »
Where once it was possible for a Scandinavian drama to sneak onto the BBC schedules without anyone noticing, these days they come with such a huge fanfare and sky-high expectations that it’s almost inevitable that there will be a little disappointment when it doesn’t instantly turn out to be the next Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Wallander, Forbrydelsen or Borgen.
Almost as if knowing what they’re up against, the Danish and Swedish state broadcasters have cunningly teamed up in a unique co-production, and even made this alliance the central concept of the entire show by having it concentrate on a single murder case that starts with a body – or two bodies, it turns out – found literally at the precise point where the border intersects the Oresund bridge between the two nations. A joint investigation ensues, allowing for some interesting insights into how the two countries see their counterparts over the frontier – not always flattering, either.
The show brings with it the same cinematic sense of Nordic Noir style that’s captivated audiences of the aforementioned previous shows, but the culture clash seems to have ended up depriving The Bridge of some of the sense of Scandinavian subtlety to which we’ve become accustomed. Everything here seems to be much more obvious than it usually is: every point is made quite clear, the outlines gone over with thick marker pens where previously a light trace of pencil is all that would have been required, as if each side in the co-production is worried that the differences in approach might be too problematic for the other culture to sufficiently appreciate.
The lack of subtlety starts with the characters: Saga Norén (Sofia Helin) is Sarah Lund raised to the n’th degree of anti-social, the implication being that she is somewhere in the Asperger’s spectrum although in fact she comes over as more like Star Trek’s Mr Spock in her exaggerated traits; her local colleagues just declare her “a bit odd” and perhaps to the Danes she’s simply their vision of a stereotypically emotionless, OCD, brittle Swede. Her Danish counterpart Martin Rohde (Kim Bodnia) is so shambling and dozy that he makes Colombo look like a over-keen fashion clotheshorse – a wry comment on how the Swedes in turn view Danes as lazy and slovenly in general, it seems.
Initially neither character is very likeable, although Rohde quickly picks up and becomes surprisingly adept and dedicated in pursuing the case while at the same time being admirably forebearing of Norén’s quirks. In fact none of the characters are very likeable, from odious journalist Daniel Ferbé (Christian Hillborg) to social worker Stefan Lindberg (Magnus Krepper) or his homeless prostitute/addict sister Sonja (Maria Sundbom) who has hit rock bottom and then kept on tunnelling. Then there’s the strange semi-detached tale of Charlotte Söringer (Ellen Hillingsø) who moves Heaven and Earth to get her aged wealthy husband Goran a heart transplant only for him to wake up after the operation and promptly demand a divorce: given what she’s just done for him, you can’t blame her when she takes it badly.
All of these stories are milling around, along with the central murder case from the Bridge itself and the inevitable threads of the main character’s home lives (Rohde with his vasectomy and antagonistic eldest son August, Norén with her lack of social graces and interesting dating style) but it doesn’t yet gel into one compelling whole in the way that Forbrydelsen and Borgen did right from the very first moment, before they gradually allowed themselves to open out and tell broader stories. In that sense, The Bridge feels more like the way a British or French production would lay out its storylines and then gradually weave them together over the rest of the series: nothing wrong in that of course, but it lacks some of the power of their Scandinavian predecessors and makes the first two episodes a little unfocussed and aimless by comparison.
The general lack of relative subtlety extends to the central storyline as well. The Bridge Murderer is the quintessential Hollywood serial killer mastermind – the Hannibal Lector kind that never exists in reality – who has planned this crime for the better part of four years in intricate detail. He has a message which is stated bluntly so that even the police can get it: the crime of inequality in a modern society, starting with forcing the police themselves to accept that they prioritise crimes according to victims that are famous, rich or powerful while leaving the poor, weak and helpless to their own devices. This point is made early on by how the case of the lower half of the Bridge Body – a Danish prostitute – barely rated even a cursory investigation when she disappeared, but the case of the top half – a Swedish politician – instantly sparks a massive no-holds-barred manhunt.
From here the killer is going to go on to make other points, the next being about homelessness. That’s because this sociopathic genius wants to make the world a better place by forcing everyone to face the problems that are wrong with modern Scandinavian society: “Our part of the world would be wonderful if we solved our problems. I would like to point out five in particular,” the killer himself says on a CD delivered to police in attention-grabbing circumstances. I’m guessing that the widening gap between rich and poor will be another target and that this is where the heartless, heart-buying Mrs Söringer will come into things.
So this is as much message drama as it is a murder/cop story or even a study of the culture and language clash between two friendly neighbouring countries. That’s a hugely ambitious ask to impose on any mere TV programme, and it’s no wonder that in the circumstances the show has to forego some of the trademark Nordic subtlety to achieve it. I admire the ambition, and it’s certainly achieved more of its aims in the first two episodes than 95% of British or US productions could ever hope to manage in an entire series.
And yet while it’s admirable and impressive, it’s also – like its cast of characters – not really very likeable, at least not at this stage. The overly bleached-out colour palette is another way the production seems to go out of its way to grate, along with a troubling predilection for showing seamy street life, violence and nudity – including a bizarrely gratuitous nude scene for the character of Stefan Lindberg, who in any case is styled to look like he’s wandered in from a bad 70s porno flick. As the most weird character in an already very odd collection, Stefan has to be the runaway prime suspect at this early stage – although that said, he’s probably so outrageously obvious that he can’t possibly turn out to be the Bridge Murderer by the end.
It’s early days, and a lot will depend on how the series settles down and beds in. I’m certainly along for the ride for the time being, but I have to admit to being a little less enthusiastic about it than I’d expected and hoped to be.
Fabulous title sequence and theme, though – definitely unreserved full marks there!
Currently showing on BBC with two episodes on Saturday evenings at 9pm, which are then repeated separately on Monday and Tuesday around 11pm. The DVD and Blu-ray are out on May 21.