In the end the end wasn’t as upsetting as I’d made the Resident IT Consultant expect. He almost complained. And I was relieved. I wasn’t feeling up to too much sadness, and Wallander made for pretty sad viewing the week before.
I’m glad they wrote it so that they can’t revive Wallander. In my opinion it went on for too long as it was, but the last season did have some redeeming points. But I’m surprised no one could tell – I mean really tell – that he was getting bad.
The notes and the notebook and mixing tawny owls in with evidence and feeding the dog too many times made for a certain amount of comedy, but when you stop and think about it, it’s fairly awful. Wallander looked awful, and they should have sacked him for being unshaven and wearing clothes only half done up.
But the last plot worked out well, and the ending was as satisfying as you could make an Alzheimers ending. The bad guy had it coming.
Did I sit opposite her on a train recently? That was the question. I felt I ‘knew’ her so well, the woman who swept down Shandwick Place in Edinburgh on Saturday morning. Daughter and I were going in the opposite direction, but I got enough of a good look at her. I knew I knew her.
But was it the train? I sort of felt it was recently and I sort of felt she was Swedish. Or the train was, at any rate. But what would she be doing in Edinburgh? OK, so lots of Swedes like Scotland and maybe she was here on holiday. But she strode very purposefully, and alone.
If I hadn’t sat opposite her on a train, maybe she was from the television? Yes, that could be it. Once I’d decided that much, I ‘knew’ that it was a crime series. I felt she was the wronged woman, caught up in something. So, was she British after all? But what could we have watched, that was so recent? Besides NCIS, I watch very little. Surely not Doctor Who?
I discussed the conundrum with Daughter, who hadn’t noticed her. (That didn’t make the discussion any easier.) Suddenly I felt sure it was Wallander. The Swedish, Krister Henriksson Wallander. She was his romantic interest in season one. She was the one who behaved ‘badly’, letting poor Wallander down.
But which episode? It took a lot of googling back and forth until I found the right one, and then some more before deciding which was the right female. Armed with the name Cecilia Nilsson it was easy to find her photo, and then you google name and Edinburgh, and hey presto.
There she was, being praised for her one woman show performed in silence (and in the nude if the picture was anything to go by).
So I was right. Except it wasn’t a train. But close.
It must have been season two of Wallander when Daughter wandered in and joined us, quickly coming to the conclusion she quite liked Wallander. After all.
Because when we watched a random episode a week ago she wondered who on earth those people were. The answer was Linda Wallander and her room mate Stefan. And they are not there in season two.
I’m used to chopping and changing and can watch in almost any order, especially since I didn’t start at the beginning. But we have now taken the orderly decision to watch them all, and in the right order. That’s episodes three and four, followed by one and five. Very orderly. And we have deleted episode two. But I do remember it. Question is why BBC4 showed them in this higgledy piggledy order?
The first in the series was really quite hard hitting, and Daughter almost gave up, but not even hardened Swedes kill babies off. At least not all the time. I suppose they needed to entice people in with something special, in order to hook them. Could as easily lose them if viewers feel it’s too much.
This evening’s Afrikanen was quite topical, seeing as there’s been some discussion both here and there about the use of the n-word. And as always it’s fascinating when all the handsome, youngish, male actors from my past turn out to have become old men. This time it was Tomas Bolme, and I had to look twice before feeling sure it even was him.
But I do wish they wouldn’t populate southern Sweden with Stockholm-accented actors. Sometimes it leaves you wondering if the character is meant to have just emigrated from the capital, or if they forgot to audition local actors, again. Afrikanen had one with the right accent. I almost wondered what was wrong with her.
We’ve been getting used to seeing Krister (Wallander) Henriksson and Jakob (Johan Falk) Eklund and Mikael (Beck and every other film) Persbrandt in almost everything recently.
We’re not used to seeing Persbrandt as a religious fanatic. Nor Krister Henriksson, who always looks quite sweet. They were teamed up with James Bond-lady Izabella Scorupco and her far-too-serious solicitor boss Jakob Eklund, and then transported to Kiruna.
While watching Solstorm, the film based on Åsa Larsson’s crime novel, Daughter decided she might not move to Kiruna after all. The town looked nice enough, albeit small and too far from anywhere, but when you take the religious shenanigans and the murders into account, then it doesn’t matter that it’s also close to the European Space Agency.
Izabella Scorupco returns ‘home’ to help her best friend whose brother, and her own former boyfriend, has been murdered. It gets pretty nasty, as it all centres on the small but powerful church where the victim was a minister. And which just about everyone else has ties to, in some way or other.
As Daughter kept pointing out; why didn’t they just ask the children? They knew.
Interestingly different, and very pregnant, police detective. And scary Persbrandt. For a change.
The morning after the film we just happened across a copy of the book in the charity shop in town. Didn’t buy it.
Posted in Books, Church, Crime, Film, Television, Travel
Tagged André Sjöberg, Annika Olsson, Antti Reini, Åsa Larsson, Göran Forsmark, Henrik Gustafsson, Izabella Scorupco, Jakob Eklund, Krister Henriksson, Lena B Eriksson, Maria Sundbom, Mikael Persbrandt, Saga Larsson, Sandra Engström, Suzanne Reuter
There were bodyguards all over television last week. The previews promised me Swedish bodyguards and Danish bodyguards. In the end I somehow expected some inter-Nordic bodyguard series. This was because I’m an idiot and I didn’t even notice it was different channels.
First out was Livvagterne, which is a Danish series, featuring the agency that guards Danish politicians. Jumping straight into episode 15 made for more confusion, but it was entertaining enough. As someone says on IMDb, they feel it’s as good as any American series and they are surprised there aren’t more things done on this topic.
Maybe it’s because it’s Danish, or it might simply be due to it being television fiction, but there are a lot of in-agency relationships. The two episodes I’ve watched deals with a wannabe government minister, whose daughter is abducted just after his boss has committed suicide. It’s not a pretty story, but it rings true.
After this it was Livvakterna, which is a Swedish film; the second with Jakob Eklund as Johan Falk after Noll Tolerans. Johan goes rogue after his employers show a distinct lack of either understanding or appreciation of what he did in the first film. A close friend gets caught up with the Russian mafia in Estonia and asks for help when things get really bad.
And then things get quite a bit worse. Very violent, and my tolerance for stupid mothers of stupid children disappeared. But they redeem themselves, so it’s OK. As the blurb in the TV guide said, it’s a rather silly plot, but nicely done.
(It also has ‘Wallander’ – i.e. Krister Henriksson – which pleased Daughter greatly until…)
We are already looking forward to the third film.
Posted in Crime, Film, Television
Tagged Alexandra Rapaport, André Babikian, Cecilie Stenspil, Christoph M Ohrt, Ditte Gråbøl, Ellen Hillingsø, Jakob Eklund, Kim Jansson, Krister Henriksson, Lennart Hjulström, Lia Boysen, Marie Richardson, Michael Sand, Per Burell, Rafael Edholm, Rasmus Bjerg, Samuel Fröler, Søren Vejby, Thomas W Gabrielsson, Tommy Kenter
Good Friday sounds so much pleasanter than Long Friday, as it’s called in Sweden. I don’t know what it was like in Britain in the 1960s, but the young witch experienced some very boring Fridays at Easter. Nothing that was fun was allowed to happen.
There was television. Mind you, this was in a country with one channel, and that channel woke up around 5pm and lasted maybe five or six hours in total. What I can remember of the programmes was that it was always rather religious and long and sort of black and white.
Good thing that Easter Saturday followed, with bonfires and hot dogs and the scaring away of witches…
Missed Wallander when the new series began on Saturday, so last night was an opportunity to catch the repeat. After the first few minutes feeling that I’d already seen this one, I decided I hadn’t, and I really hadn’t. Very, very good, I’d say. Maybe they needed that fresh start with new people?
Less sure of the possible developments with the twice-over neighbour for Kurt. Surely having a dog is enough? And Sweden came across as suitably incapable once again, but doing so in beautiful surroundings. Had thought it’d be more dour to put me in a long Friday mood, but it left me quite upbeat for a change.
Not none, but rather fewer than before, at least.
We watched Wallander last night, and as the cast numbers dwindled towards the end, I asked who they would have left. ‘This was the last,’ said the Resident IT Consultant, but it really wasn’t. There are another twelve more recent episodes of Swedish Wallander still to come. Although, as the BBC announcer mentioned a new Branagh series coming up, we may have to wait a while. The announcer also managed the feat of going from perfectly correct pronunciation of Wallander to the abysmal anglicised Öuållander for Branagh. It’s how to keep them apart, I presume.
It might have been better if we’d watched these last ones in order, but with a lack of time, we simply recorded the others and found we had a Wallander sized hole on Saturday evening, so consumed immediately. We’ll have to go back to find out what we’ve missed.
I have a recently developed dislike for too many ‘northerners’ in Ystad, so welcomed the local accent of the one actor who could speak ‘properly’, and then he promptly turned out to be the baddie. And I do wonder how they managed quite so much snow. For Ystad.