Thicha

★★★½
“…dig two graves, Thai style”

As a child, Oo-yi came to Thailand with her mother as a migrant worker. They had the misfortune to work for the cruel Madam Bussara (Kingpayome), who had a particularly nasty habit of pimping out young girls to her lawyer, Methi. When she tried to do the same to Oo-yi, Mom stood up for her – and was beaten to death for her pains. Oo-yi was able to escape, and raised by Ni Wai (Sirikul). Now, an adult (Luevisadpaibul), she is set on vengeance, and intent on destroying Madam Bussara’s life. To do so, she becomes Thicha, “accidentally” bumps into Bussara’s son, Phatchai (Chirathivat), and begins cultivating a relationship with him. But that’s the story of revenge: it’s messy. Since her feelings for him start becoming genuine.

On the one hand, it might seem rather soapy, and I won’t deny the melodramatic nature of things. But it is held together by a pair of great performances from Luevisadpaibul and Kingpayome. The latter, in particular, is close to an all-time villain. I’m not sure what happened to her husband, but it probably wasn’t good. Witness this monologue: “No one understands just how thrilling it is to watch a living being fight for its life. When it’s someone who always thought they were invincible, it’s even more entertaining. And if that desperate fight for survival is caused by my own hands? It’s almost as good as an orgasm.” Yeah: not somebody you want to mess with.

When her son shows up with Thicha, she knows instinctively that something is not right with his new girlfriend. From there, through the eight x 45-minute episodes, unfolds a slew of twists, revelations, nastiness and questions. Thicha is pregnant! Or is she? Phatchai discovers her deceptions! What will he do? Thicha’s informant inside Bussara’s house is exposed! How will she survive? It all builds to a rather brutal battle between Thicha and Madam, on the very spot where her mother was buried, years before. I was about to apply a demerit for Thicha having to be rescued by Phatchai there, until… Well, it doesn’t end exactly like that, this being a case where the pursuit of vengeance is not a rewarding and cathartic experience.

It is a little distancing. While Madam is a right c… not very nice person, it’s perhaps Methi who is in direst need of drastic punitive action. I feel it would have been more satisfying if he had been the bad guy from the start, rather than a peripheral villain. However, there’s a good sense of escalation, with each episode ending at a point which lures you forward into the next installment. It’s the scenes where Thicha and Bussara face off – be that verbally or (eventually) physically – where the series comes to life, and I found myself holding my breath more than once. If it does take a while to reach the final payoff, I’d be hard pushed to call it unsatisfactory.

Dir: Ekkasit Trakulkasemsuk
Star: Pimchanok Luevisadpaibul, Metinee Kingpayome, Pachara Chirathivat, Penpak Sirikul

Playground

★★★
“Further education.”

I’m a little surprised I hadn’t heard of this, considering it is based on a concept by Luc Besson. What we have here, though, is a feature-length version of what was originally a ten-episode web series. I presume it was intended for distribution on something like Quibi (remember that?), but I’ve not been able to find out where it previously appeared, if anywhere. Anyway, it recently popped up on Tubi, looking like a “proper” film, though still with the chapter headings. While touted as “an original idea” by Luc Besson, let’s be honest: if you chucked Nikita, Leon and Hanna into a blender, the resulting violence smoothie might well end up tasting not dissimilar to this.

Amy Seely (Holm) is a teen orphan in New York (though the series was made in France), whose father murdered her mother, then killed himself, and is not having a good time in the foster system. She is more than happy to take the route out offered to her by Father (Abkarian), even though that means attending The Courtyard, a school for teenage assassins. There, life is certainly cheap, with the mysterious powers that be who run it, taking advantage of the fact that nobody basically suspects children of being killers. However, Amy becomes privy to disturbing information, which suggests that the Courtyard might have been involved in her parents’ deaths, and begins to rebel against her own conditioning. Not helping matters: the facility is attacked, and the order comes from above to shut it all down.

After an impressive opening, where Amy ambushes a group of four thugs, by pretending to be the target’s daughter, this is… merely alright. It feels a bit too “young adult’ for my tastes, and spends an excessive amount of time within the Courtyard, dealing with what I am inclined to describe as Teen Soap-Opera Bullshit. For example, there’s a bitchy girl who takes an instant dislike to Amy, a cute boy that she kinda likes, and so on. Therefore, when her first mission goes awry because somebody sabotaged her gun, it leads to an additional helping of unnecessary TS-OB. I’d have preferred to see more of them operating in the real world, and suspect the webisode budget acted as a constraint there.

The structure is also a little odd as a result, because rather than building to an obvious climax, you have ten mini-climaxes, corresponding to the end of each episode. In some ways, this pacing has more in common with a golden era serial. I was quite impressed with Holm, who has potential, although it was a little odd having her first mission involving a paedophile, considering Besson’s own… um, very “European” history in the area of teenage attraction. It’s also eye-rollingly fortuitous how that mission provides her with the first evidence that the Courtyard may not be as beneficent as they claim. Still, it’s probably no worse than anything Besson has done in the past decade. 

Dir: Olivier Schneider and Pascal Sid
Star: Amalia Holm, Simon Abkarian, Melina Matthews, Ann Skelly

Murder by the Lake

★★★★
ScandiNoir – made in Germany…”

Murder by the Lake is a TV crime series co-producted between the second public German TV channel ZDF and the public TV channel of Austria ORF. It started in 2014 with a 90-minute long TV movie, followed by a further movie each year until 2017, when the yearly output was doubled. Since 2024, there have been three movies each year. So far, 22 episodes have come out, with #23 scheduled for later this year. The German title Die Toten vom Bodensee translates as “The Dead of Lake Constance” – “Bodensee” is literally “Ground Sea”, but is called Lake Constance in English. When I saw the first movie I was struck by its surprising quality. If you have read my reviews here, you know I usually don’t think much of the quality of German film productions. This is different: not only is it a show that I always watched, but one where I bought the DVDs. 

German crime shows tend to be boring and tedious, though I admit some have become much much better in the 20-odd years. This is one of those exceptions: The series captured my attention from the get-go; I found the single episodes remarkable and was quickly invested in the characters, who were very well portrayed by the actors. In short: It had a different dynamic and feel than most German shows. I wondered why it felt like that until I realized something: The creators of the show have borrowed heavily from successful recent Scandinavian TV crime series, so that you easily could call this “Scandinavian Noir, German style”.

It starts with Lake Constance, which is split between Germany, Austria and Switzerland. When a crime happens that falls under the jurisdiction of Germany and Austria, the commissariats of both countries decide to work together. A new special commission of “German-Austrian Crime Prevention” is formed, headed by German chief inspector Micha Oberländer (Matthias Koeberlin) and Austrian detective inspector Hannah Zeiler (Nora Waldstätten). Also involved, though more in secondary functions, are Austrian chief detective inspector Thomas Komlatschek (Hary Prinz), as well as a pathologist.

Sounds familiar? Well, then you probably have seen The Bridge. It had a Danish and Swedish inspector working together, in a concept used for many remakes around the world. Then there is the Swedish-German-Norwegian crime series The Sandhamn Murders,  perhaps the first show to adapt ScandiNoir for a warm summer environment, rather than the usual harsh, cold surroundings of typical Scandinavian shows. The same goes for Lake Constance, whose beautiful surroundings immediately inspire viewers to plan their next holidays there. And last but not least is the character of Hannah Zeiler who is unlike any ever seen in any German TV show, let alone as a police investigator. With her hair combed back tightly, a nice Lara Croft braid, and a Spock-like mind, she moves like a cat. Unless she’s driving her 1971 Moto Gucci Nuovo Falcone motorcycle.

But most interesting is her behavior. When she first appears, she is strictly business. She says hardly a word otherwise, with  no interest in getting to know the wife and daughter of her new colleague. She lets no one in emotionally, and shows an aversion to personal connection. Her behavior feels awkward, even upsetting, until you get used to it. Some watchers complained she mumbled her lines, but then, most characters here speak with an Austrian accent which can be a bit difficult to understand for Germans. It might also have something to do with the idea of a character who only slowly reveals her secrets to the audience. Because what I realized after a while, was that Hannah Zeiler is actually a more clinical, streamlined and slightly tamer Austrian version of Lisbeth Salander. Or at least her distant relative.

Similar to Lisbeth, Hannah has childhood trauma, as the sole survivor of a boat accident 20 years ago, where she lost both parents. While her mother died, her father’s body was never found. Hannah was raised by her adoptive father and now boss, Ernst Gschwendner (August Schmölzer), who plays an important role here. But in contrast to her Swedish predecessor, Hannah was never physically or psychologically abused, though the accident has left her with a fear of taking to the water. Also, the idea her father might still be alive has not entirely left her. This is a larger story arc that concludes four years later in episode 6, “The Returner”. It’s fascinating to realize how the “MCU method” of preparing a story arc over years, can pay off handsomely in the end.

Like Salander, Zeiler is a social recluse, and lives in a big house inherited from her parents. Her controlled external demeanor is in contrast to the chaotic life of Oberländer. He has family problems,  with a wife who feels chained to the house and their child. He is constantly on the job, driving an old Volkswagen bus: he sometimes even spends the nights there, drunk, and it’s usually not very clean. Zeller and Oberländer are bound to clash; for a long time, it was the main reason for me to watch the series. Initially, their characters seem to come from different planets – the comparison of “like cats and dogs” is very fitting. Yet they learn to respect and rely on each other. It is touching to see Zeiler start to trust Oberländer, slowly open up to him, and their relationship develop.

There was a lot of personal development around the duo, which kept the audience coming back every year, and these were good storytelling moves. The original idea was to have cases with some kind of mystic or mythological touch, although after the first movie, it was then entirely forgotten for the next nine. Mind you, this isn’t The X-Files. The angle is more related to folk customs, superstition or single elements. For example, in the first episode a murder seems related to a Celtic mask found in the lake. In another, a dead girl is found in a mermaid costume. One episode happens during a traditional and ancient local parade. Another has a belief that a house is cursed because it was built on a former path. Or there’s a film that begins with finding a baby in a basket in the lake – was this meant to be a reference to Moses?

However, these serve only as local colour for the stories, and not much more. The stories themselves are often very complicated, with the present crimes related to ones in the past. There is a common theme of how the sins of the fathers (or mothers) are visited on the sons and daughters. Very often the results are tragic. Though thanks to the officials, these family stories are revealed and there might be a chance for a better future. For example, one episode involved two men swapped at birth by accident, and brought up by the other’s mother; when one of them finds out, it leads to tragedy. Another theme through the show, is the inability of characters to communicate with each other. and say what they feel or know. That begins with Zeiler, who is so tight-lipped in the beginning, you could get the impression that she keeps state secrets, though a logical and understandable explanation emerges later.

Yeah, tragedy is very much ingrained in the lives of the show’s protagonists. Oberländer in particular is faced with this a lot: An old love returns and tries to kill him with the rabies virus(!). His wife cheats on him, only then to die in a car accident. He has significant problems with his teenage daughter Luna, who doesn’t stay the lovely little girl she was in the first episodes. What Zeiler and Oberländer have in common, is that they are essentially both lone wolves whose main focus is their work, with Komlatschek in the middle as the well-meaning and warmhearted successor of Gschwendner. He partly balances out the behavior of Oberländer, who often appears overtly aggressive and angry, and Zeiler, who especially in the beginning seems cold-hearted, odd and a bit inhuman.

Action-wise, the show isn’t anything special, though for a German TV crime show, it moves with surprising narrative speed. Guns are drawn quite often, but shooting remains a last resort, even if a rabid dog roams the woods. But I really got to enjoy Zeiler driving her fast motorcycle over long empty roads, through beautiful landscapes. I will say, over time the show lost a bit of its attraction, after her epic arc finished; I cared less and less for Oberländer’s private problems. That said, I still watched every episode. Then in 2022, Zeiler left on a motorcycle trip, never to return. What had happened? Nora Waldstätten (seen in movies such as Carlos the Jackal, and next to Kirsten Stewart in Personal Shopper) had other projects she wanted to take precedence. Since the ZDF had endured a bad experience with an actress in another crime show, resulting in no new episodes for 4 years, they moved quickly to replace Waldstätten, though no-one directly admitted the actress was fired.

In episode 16 (“Nemesis”) Oberländer got a new Austrian partner in Luisa Hoffmann (Alina Fritsch, above). Zeiler was declared dead in the final scene, Oberländer getting a phone call informing him she had a fatal motorcycle accident – strangely in Spain. Honestly, I felt quite cheated by this cheap way to write a character out of a show. The powers that be could have come up with a better, more fitting and respectful way to get the character out of the series, especially considering she was the main reason to watch in the first place. I did get a strong feeling the writers and producers chickened out from what would have been the next logical step, after the relationship building over all those years: making Oberländer and Zeiler a couple! For let’s face it: both were so special, in their own way, that any relationship with a “normal” person was doomed. Yet, they connected with each other and always understood that “the job comes first”.

But the powers that be again ignored their own character and story build-up completely – see my review for Arcane season 2 – and pulled a former girlfriend of Oberländer out of nowhere. Unfortunately, she was a criminal that betrayed him and would be shot later by Komlatschek. I gave the new actress one quick glance and, without condemning her performance, realized that special… strangeness, charisma, aura, call it whatever you want, her predecessor exuded en masse, just wasn’t there at the slightest. You won’t be surprised that I didn’t watch any of the subsequent episodes.

Oddly, while Waldstätten lasted 15 episodes, Fritsch threw in the towel after 6 (her last one, “Medusa”, was shown January 2025). The final episode I saw had Oberländer and Komlatschek becoming the new investigative couple, and it apparently stays like that for the new episodes. It’s kind of sad when I think of how Waldstätten has been getting guest roles in other, definitely inferior TV crime shows since her dismissal. I wonder who will be the next woman colleague to turn up? After all, I think TV audiences like to see a good-looking interesting female character next to the boorish, angry Oberländer. As the films usually (and still) have between 6-8 million viewers for each new episode, it would be quite risky to change the recipe for success.

Creator: Sam Davis et al
Star: Matthias Koeberlin, Nora Waldstätten, Alina Fritsch, Hary Prinz
a.k.a.  Die Toten vom Bodensee
English-speaking audiences can watch the series with subtitles, on MHz Choice, also through Amazon Prime.

Girl Gun Lady

★★½
“Get yer kits out…”

With its combination of alternate reality sci-fi and stylized action, this feels like it could have come from the mind of Mamoru Oshii, creator of things such as Avalon and Assault Girls. It’s not. Instead, it was created by toy manufacturer Bandai – like most of their shows, it works largely as a 25-minute long advertisement for product, in this case specifically model kits. But there are some interesting ideas to be found here, though they are somewhat let down by action that clearly has no interest in being realistic, and a tendency towards maudlin emotion. I was left wondering who, exactly, it was aimed at, because the sentimentality feels at odds with the young men who are likely the target consumers.

It takes place in a high school where the favoured hobby of Koharu Tachibana (Shiraishi) is making plastic models. After buying kits of a gun and a figure called Alice, and assembling them, she wakes to find herself an unwilling participant in ‘Girl Gun Fight’. Four teams of three young women, are pitted against each other in battle, overseen by each team’s commander – hers being Alice (Ohara). Between rounds she’s returned to school, along with the other participants, but naturally, nobody believes this story. There’s an awkward twist, in that if you lose all three of your lives in the game, that’s it. You do not get back to the real world, with all trace of you, including other people’s memories, being wiped out.

That’s a wonderfully dark concept, which we see realized as members of the team’s try, and fail, to protect their last life. But it also possesses almost industrial levels of perkiness, particularly reflected in idol-like pop video inserts, and bumpers of enthusiastic model-making. Tonally, it’s all over the place. I suspect that might be the point, in the same way I don’t know at whom it’s aimed. I’m inclined to go for male wish fulfillment, with Koharu being about as far as possible from the typical model-building nerd. On the other hand, it has a lot in common with the “magical schoolgirl” trope, often found in anime, and it’s driven largely by the power of friendship.

That’s especially true in the final two episodes, when Koharu, Alice and the survivors meet the wizard behind the curtain. It all gets a bit too sentimental for my tastes, with the protagonists falling over themselves in a rush to self-sacrifice. The other weakness is action that, in the main, is nothing special – it’s very stagey, in a way at which Power Rangers might look askance. More hard-hitting fights would have added nicely to the contrast with the cheesier elements. Still, I burned through the ten episodes in three sittings, and was entertained, though the emotional impact I felt fell short of what the show was aiming to generate. I also do not feel any strong urge to take up kit-building as a hobby.

Dir: Yûsuke Taki
Star: Sei Shiraishi, Yuno Ohara, Anna Ishii, Natsuki Deguchi

Inspector Sabiha

★★★
“In-flight entertainment.”

Under other circumstances, this six-episode TV series, would potentially be a marginal entry. But, just as I try to take the historical era into account, I think the location from which a film comes should also be a consideration. Some countries and cultures are simply more action heroine friendly than others. What would be groundbreaking in one region, might not even qualify from elsewhere. This is from Pakistan, and is almost the first such entry in our site’s history. [There’s just Hunterwali which… yeah!] I originally saw this in a condensed movie version, at an altitude of forty thousand feet and a ground speed of 555 mph. For I stumbled across it on the in-flight entertainment system while flying back from the UK to Arizona.

It adequately occupied a bit of time on what ended up being a fourteen-hour flight, thanks to an engine issue delaying the take-off. My grumpiness at this was, however, somewhat alleviated by unexpected GWG on the seat-back TV. By Western standards, it would definitely be considered mild, almost to the Lifetime TVM level (which makes sense, basically being a TV movie). But Pakistan isn’t exactly a beacon of empowerment. This female cop was “a giant step for womankind in the Pakistani drama arena”, according to local writers, so we need to cut it some slack. The heroine, Sabiha (the unfortunately named Butt), is the daughter of Inspector Saeed Shah, who was murdered in the line of duty while undercover. She wants to follow in his footsteps – her uncle Akbar (Ehteshamuddin) is also on the force.

He has a nasty revelation: her father, who was also his brother, had gone over to the side of the criminals. This was something covered up to avoid embarrassing the force to outsiders, though it’s an open secret within the police. Sabiha is devastated by this, adding on to problems with her self-confidence as she goes through the training, to the point she is unable to fire her gun, despite the encouragement of a friendly trainer. She eventually is able to cowboy up and persist. Passing the police exam gives her the access necessary to investigate her father’s case, find out the truth about his death, and dispense justice to those who were responsible.

To be honest, Butt doesn’t really look the part – too much make-up for a cop, by Western standards. Nor is she especially convincing in action, though it is cool when she whips off her burqa to reveal her police uniform underneath, and storms the villain’s headquarters. There are some decent emotional moments too. In this area, the heroine is outdone by her mother (Iffat Omar), who is impressively intense, such as when begging her husband not to go undercover. Writer-director Sarwar cuts up the time-line, so we bounce back and forth from Sabiha’s training to her childhood, but it always remains comprehensible. Despite not having seen Gunah, the series to which this is a prequel, it proved good enough to hold my attention. Though considering my location, guess I couldn’t exactly walk out…

I subsequently found all six TV episodes with English subs, and a playlist is embedded below. 

Dir: Adnan Sarwar
Star: Raba Butt, Enteshamuddin, Yasir Hussain, Yasir Nawaz

The Killing

★★★★
“Happy endings are for losers!”

Spoilers will follow! At one point, Scandinavian noir, was a genre mostly well-known only in Europe and to die-hard crime novel readers. But the ground-breaking female characters who have made the genre recognized worldwide in the past two decades consists of a trio. In addition to the most well-known, Lisbeth Salander of the Millennium series, there is Saga Norén of Bron: The Bridge, and Sarah Lund of The Killing. All of these have been remade in a number of other countries – not only America. But I think it’s uncontroversial to say that none ever came close to the originals. There is something to the way these series are constructed and conceptualized by our Scandinavian neighbours, that film crews in other countries just can’t re-create.

It’s not just, for example that American productions have higher budgets. Other, non-American remakes or “new versions” aren’t able to re-create that special “air” either. It’s a specific atmosphere these series have, even though those in charge of production usually understand the attraction of the original. Although Scandinoir existed well before those three series. Elements like more realistic depictions of criminal acts, very often with social aspects interwoven, and investigators with personal problems, can be traced in literature back to the 1960s, and on television to the 1970s and 80s. A realistic local background with more down-to-earth investigators, as opposed to classic Anglo-American super-detectives like Sherlock Holmes, or private investigators like Philip Marlowe, started around then, and can still be found in long-running classic German TV crime series, Tatort (literal: “scene of the crime”).

Though before these new shows, some starring some quite “damaged” women, hardly anyone except die-hard fans of crime stuff noticed. The show that served as a wake-up call for everything was The Killing. This Danish-German co-production ran for three seasons, from 2007-2012. [It seems whenever there is a new Scandinavian crime series, ZDF, the second public TV channel of Germany, is involved. They also co-produced the Millennium and Bridge shows, among other Scandinavian series.] The original version totalled 40 episodes of 55 minutes; some countries broadcast it as 20 episodes of around 110 minutes. The German version was like that: you always can tell the break between episodes, by the two-minute montage, with music underneath. It received a number of remakes, in America, Turkey and Egypt.

As typical for these Scandinavian shows, they are slow-burn mysteries. This means taking their time, introducing countless suspects and going far beyond the case, such as adding a political dimension to the scope. I was astonished to discover they did really only cover one case for an entire season. In an average episode of Tatort the case would be solved and finished after the usual 90 minutes. Here, it takes longer – much longer! – especially in the first season. It started to drag a little bit, as solving the single case of a vanished girl lasted almost nineteen hours on screen. That said, the longer experience definitely has its advantages.

For perhaps the first occasion, the suffering of the family members left behind after a beloved person dies, is shown in what feels like almost real-time. That’s remarkable, as in almost any crime story I have ever seen, these feelings are usually only vocalized in one or two sentences. Just recently, I watched an old Italian giallo and it felt almost ridiculous how the main character seemed hardly moved at all, as her entire family was exterminated, one by one. Is such behavior normal? Normal people mourn their beloved ones. Maybe some do it more quietly than others, but most movies or series leave this, very important, aspect out, with it usually secondary to finding the perpetrator. The Killing takes that time, showing us the after-effects on a family barely able to go on, needing psychological help, and taking pointless, misguided revenge, with acts that can’t bring back what has been lost.

Admittedly, they might have gone on in this direction a bit too much – especially in the first season, which is twice as long as the others – and I was starting to look at my watch. Though things are always happening, you may lose a bit of patience as yet another suspect is presented to you. What, they are proven innocent? Okay, how about this one? Oh, and there is new evidence, it might actually have been the one we let off the hook last episode! And so on.

In all three seasons, a pattern of political involvement is found. For example, a pool car belonging to a political party might have been involved in a kidnapping, with the story taking place in the run-up to elections. Suddenly, the whole process of parties in electoral battle mode can be affected by the outcome of the investigations, as well as individuals’ dirty laundry being brought up by the other side or the police. One of the main politicians in the first season is played by Lars Mikkelsen (Mads’ brother), who’d go on to play a great villain in the Benedict Cumberbatch “Sherlock” show. In other seasons, the police have to deal with other institutions and organizations hampering their work, such as the military or the secret service. The third season deals with a major industrial corporation, as the company chief’s daughter is kidnapped and might be held in one of his shipping containers.

But the main character is always the introverted police commissioner, Sarah Lund (Gråbøl). Lund doesn’t come across as the most accessible character, to say the least. It’s a character trait she shares with her sisters in spirit, Salander and Norén. Though of the three, she might be the most “normal”, and her biggest problem an inability to communicate. Maybe it’s too cold in Denmark, and you don’t want to open your mouth if it’s not necessary? She can be quite talkative – when it’s about the case. But it’s always about the case and not her family. In season one, Lund’s fiancé and son wait for her to come to them in Sweden. Though she wants it, there is always something. Her superior insists she has to continue her work, as the only one who can, despite her successor already waiting in the wings. Even after boarding the plane, she returns once again to solve crime for another day in Copenhagen. Then everything changes when her colleague gets shot.

She gets smarter in the second season, now carrying her gun with her at all times. This will save her life at the end of the series, which deals with a series of murders of former Danish soldiers. Sometimes you can’t solve everything just with your mind! But there is always an apparent lack of social competence. Lund doesn’t seem to understand the emotional needs of her family (and others) and that’s why she loses them. The case is always more important for her. She becomes quite obsessive in her investigations – even after everyone, including her new chief Brix (Morten Suurballe) sees a case as solved. You thought Columbo with his, “There is still a little question I have…”, could get on your nerves? Wait, until you meet Sarah Lund!

There is a learning curve and character arc for the character. She is hesitant to come back to work in season 2, and in season 3 realizes that she has failed, not only as a mother but in her social life in general. She would like to have a closer relationship with her son, but he doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore. She manages to take care of his pregnant girl-friend, though even in front of the hospital room where the girl and her son are holding her newborn grandchild, she still turns around because… Well, you know… The case… Ultimately, the show can be seen as a tragedy. Yes, the cases all get solved in the end. But that doesn’t mean that we get a truly happy ending.

Season 1. The father of the murdered girl kills the murderer, and will most likely go into prison for that. Season 2. The minister of justice uncovers the corruption of the ruling government, but can’t do anything against it, as everyone is covering it up. He can only decide between joining them, thereby keeping his career, or quitting. Season 3 is the worst of all. While the kidnapped girl is saved, the industrialist must remain silent about the cover-up of his board of directors, in order to keep the company going. Meanwhile, Lund finds out who raped and murdered another girl years ago, and sees no alternative but to shoot the murderer. The ending has her leaving her home country, perhaps to return one day with new evidence to justify the killing, instead of finally getting together with a past love from her youth (Kass, who would later enjoy success as Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Carl Mørck).

As there never was a fourth season, she might still be searching that evidence abroad. But happy endings certainly look different in Scandinavia. After all is said though, this is a good show with great and convincing actors. You can enjoy its complex story-lines, its gritty, sometimes almost cynical, world view and darkness, if you are willing to be patient and have enough time. The second and third seasons are much easier to watch than the first. The Scandinavian approach to crime series is definitely different one from what other European or American series offer their audiences. But if you get used to them, they can be quite addictive as this show showed. On its release, The Killing became especially successful in Great Britain, which might then have drawn the attention of American producers in this direction.

It started the new wave of Scandinavian noir in 2007, which seems to have lasted for about a decade, ending ten years later in the Hollywood adaptation of Jo Nesbø’s The Snowman, with Michael Fassbender as Harry Hole. But if you are in the mood for more psychologically damaged, Scandinavian, anti-heroines, you’ll find plenty of others, such as Annika Bengtzon or Rebecka Martinsson. There are also reports that Amazon Prime is planning a new show on good ol’ Lisbeth Salander. Who knows, maybe the era of troubled Scandinavian female investigators isn’t over yet?

Creator: Søren Sveistrup
Star: Sofie Gråbøl, Søren Malling, Mikael Birkkjær, Nikolaj Lie Kaas

Our Girl, seasons one and two

★★★
“Too much soap, rather than opera.”

Having very much enjoyed the Our Girl movie, I was interested in checking out the TV series version, which ran for four seasons from 2013 through 2020. You’ll notice, however, that only two are being covered here. Part of the reason for that is logistical: only seasons 1-2 are available on any of our current streaming services. That wouldn’t necessarily be an absolute show-stopper. But there were also reasons why we – mostly Chris – opted to draw a line under the second season. Each series tells the story of a different nurse in the British army. The first is about teenager Molly Dawes (Turner), who joins to escape a dead-end life in East London. The second follows established soldier Georgie Lane (Keegan).

The first is considerably more successful, with a better character arc for the lead – it’s basically an extended remake of the film, with all its strengths, including a fine performance from Turner. It goes further into her career, going through her first tour in Afghanistan, where Molly’s relationship with a local girl opens a whole can of worms. There is some soap opera stuff, in a love triangle between her, commanding officer Captain Charles James (Aldridge) and fellow soldier Dylan Smith (Iwan Rheon), but it’s not overpowering. The action side of things is well-handled – South Africa stands in for the Middle East – with the tension of patrols in a hostile environment, where even a child is a potential threat, being particularly apparent.

In the second season, however, the balance tips. Lane has a mission in Ethiopia, where she draws the ire of British jihadist Abu Jasser (Michael James), which continues to imperil her after she returns to Britain. While this strand, as well as the kidnapping and rescue of Georgie which precedes it, is fine, there’s another love-triangle, and this one is much more annoying. Georgie was previously stood up at the altar by a comrade, Elvis Harte (Pasqualino), and is now engaged to Dr. Jamie Cole (Royce Pierreson). However, while in Ethiopia, Harte shows up and begins to work his way back into her affections. It’s this element which caused Chris to lose both sympathy for and interest in the lead character, and eventually, the show.

I can see where’s she’s coming from, because it’s hard to empathize with a heroine whose sense of loyalty appears to be so weak. I get that this angle was injected to add dramatic tension. But Georgie’s eventual, not unreasonable, realization that she’s not the marrying kind, didn’t require her to (and I quote) “slut around.” On the heels of a not dissimilar situation in season 1, the implication is that women in the armed forces will inevitably end up getting romantically involved with their fellow soldiers, which I suspect is not the intended message. Discovering the two further seasons continue to follow Georgie, rather than a new character, was enough to get us to pull the plug prematurely, and move on.

Creator: Tony Grounds
Star: Lacey Turner, Michelle Keegan, Ben Aldridge, Luke Pasqualino

The Queen of Villains

★★★★½
“Hard-hitting, and hitting hard.”

Not long ago, I tagged Black Doves as the best television of 2024. If I’d seen this before December 31, it would have beaten it out. It’s a top-tier depiction of the world of Japanese women’s professional wrestling in the eighties, weaving truth, fiction and legend together in a way that’s highly effective – probably even if you’re not a particular fan of sports entertainment.  It’s the story of Kaoru Matsumoto (Retriever), who escaped a dysfunctional family to join All Japan Women’s Pro Wrestling (AJW). Initially struggling to achieve success, she found her niche as nightmare villain Dump Matsumoto, feuding with former friend Chigusa Nagoya (Grace), until the pair faced off in a legendary, brutal battle, destined to lead to public humiliation for one of them.

We all know professional wrestling is staged, with the outcomes predetermined, right? [Do not used the word “fake”: I will cut you!] Here, things are… murkier. This treads a delicate line between that and kayfabe, the wrestling term for promoting it as reality, and genuine competition. The stance here is interesting, suggesting that while those in charge, like promoter Toshikuni Matsunaga (Saitoh), can have a result in mind, that relies on those in the ring agreeing to it. This isn’t always the case [one wrestling show I remember attending definitely had a genuine fight, for backstage reasons], and here, Matsumoto is a loose cannon, prepared to go to any lengths to put herself over. Or her character: the lines are certainly blurred here, to the point of near invisibility.

What matters, is that the audience believed it was real, to the point that Matsumoto received death threats as the feud intensified. It’s perhaps hard to understand just how popular AJW was, but their TV shows were getting considerably bigger ratings in Japan at its peak, than WWE or WCW were during the Monday Night Wars. It was a true cultural phenomenon – oddly, with teenage girls at the front of fandom. Nagayo and tag partner Lioness Asuka (Goriki), known as the Crush Gals, were basically Taylor Swift: they actually had a successful music career. Below, you can see the video of the real match mentioned, between Nagayo and Matsumoto. I defy you to find any wrestling bout, anywhere, where the crowd were so utterly into it.

The show does a fabulous job of capturing this, and the bouts as well are very well-staged – the real Nagayo worked as a technical advisor. Wrestling at the time was very different from what it is now, especially for women, and Matsumoto’s brutal style was unprecedented. She could chew up and spit out current WWE champion Rhea Ripley, using her as a tooth-pick. Indeed, it feels as if the final match is the dramatic pinnacle, and should end the fifth and final episode. It doesn’t and it feels like it’s heading for an anti-climax thereafter, until recovering [while not mentioned, it’s caused by AJW’s rule that wrestlers had to retire at age twenty-six!] But the drama behind it also has a great deal of nuance, depicting her troubled family life, and willingness to do whatever was necessary for her career.

This came at personal cost – not least her friendship with Nagayo. But it also affected her relationship with her family, in particular her mother and sister. Matsumoto initially wanted to become a wrestler, so she could protect them from her abusive and alcoholic father, but in the end, even her family were not safe from the ripples of her in-ring “villainy”. It all works on multiple levels, and provoked genuine emotions in me, to a degree rarely managed by any TV show, least of all one based on (lightly fictionalized) reality. Towards the end, the promoter lets a young girl in to see the show, and I was left wondering whether this was perhaps intended to be someone like Manami Toyoya, the greatest woman wrestler of all-time.

Another series, perhaps The Queen of Heroines? We can but hope. 

Creator: Osamu Suzuki
Star: Yuriyan Retriever, Victoria Grace, Takumi Saitoh, Ayame Goriki

Lioness, season two

★★★½
“Hold the lion…”

Interesting the title dropped the “Special Ops” prefix from the title for this series, necessitating a bit of a retro-fix on our season one review for consistency. The sophomore run is another solid television show. Between this and Yellowstone, it feels like Sheridan is the macho version of Shonda Rimes, creating television series that have a recognizable auteur feel to them. In Sheridan’s case, that means two-fisted tales,cbest enjoyed with a cigar and a glass of whiskey. That, in this case, it’s largely focused on female characters, does not make proceedings any less macho or two-fisted. This season certainly left me with a new, deeply held respect for attack helicopters. M134 Minigun go brrrrrr…

It’s the pilot of one such, Josie Carrillo (Rodriguez) who is recruited as this season’s Lioness. The reason is her family are deeply embedded in one of the Mexican cartels; in particular, her father is the chief accountant to the Los Tigres cartel, and her uncle is its leader. A dishonourable discharge is fabricated, and she’s sent back to her family. However, in a sharp change from season one, this is only a minor thread. Indeed, it’s only a few hours after her return that her father figures out what’s going on, and the surveillance team have to go in, guns blazing, to rescue Carrillo. It’s all painfully messy, and if there’s an overall theme in season 2, it’s that anything which can go wrong, will.

As a result, Joe McNamara (Saldaña), the CIA officer in charge of the Lioness program, and her boss Kaitlyn Meade (Kidman), spend much of the series trying to fight the resulting fires. The instigating event is the kidnapping of an American congresswoman by Los Tigres, whom Joe and her team have to rescue from over the border in Mexico. Though Meade and her ultimate boss, Secretary of State Edwin Mullins (Freeman), detect the hand of foreign powers behind the cartel’s actions. Which is why, eight episodes later, Joe and her team are sent to Iran, to stop two Chinese nuclear scientists from joining their weapons program. The message is clear. You think you can cross our border with impunity? That belief operates in both directions.

In between though, a lot of stuff goes bad, as Los Tigres are targeted. Not all the opposition is external either, with inter-agency cooperation notable by its absence, and a shady DEA agent whose loyalties are seriously in question. There’s bad intel thrown in too: what is supposed to be a cartel drug stash house ends up containing children, and a well-meaning attempt to rescue them fails spectacularly. The action scenes may be among the best on TV, especially the sequences book-ending this season. However, I felt there was rather too much political intrigue. I wouldn’t mind it in another show: you get a real sense of how different government departments fight each other, rather than working together. But it’s all time when we should be watching M134 Miniguns go brrrrrr.

Creator: Taylor Sheridan
Star: Zoe Saldaña, Nicole Kidman, Genesis Rodriguez, Morgan Freeman

She season two

★★★½
“Joining our story in progress…”

“Where’s season one?” you may be wondering. It’s a fair question: I thought I had reviewed it here, but there’s absolutely no sign of it on the site. Perhaps that one didn’t meet the necessary action quota? It is true that the first time the heroine shoots someone is the opening episode of the second part, and it thoroughly messes her up. Anyway, we’re here now. Said heroine is Indian policewoman Bhumika Pardeshi (Pohankar), who has been part of an operation to try and nail major narcotics dealer Nayak (Kumar). This involves her going undercover as a prostitute, in order to get into his circle and act as an informant there – obviously, this is a highly hazardous position for her. There’s a whole domestic situation to handle as well.

The first series was mostly about her relationship with one of Nayak’s lieutenants. In the second, she returns to the streets, with Nayak himself as the target. This alone also exposes Bhumika to danger, though she proves more than capable of taking care of herself against violent pimps. Indeed, this proves significant in the second half, after Nayak has supposedly been killed in a police operation. The truth is, he’s still operating, with Bhumika now his second-in-command, using the hookers to move drugs for him. Has she genuinely fallen for the crime boss? Or is this simply Bhumika embedding herself deeper, so his entire network can eventually be brought down?

This question is one which is at the core of the second series. How undercover is she, and how much is the experience going to change her as a result? By the end, the answer to the second part is clear. “A great deal”, to the point where Bhumika may not be able to resume her former life, either as a cop, or as a family woman. There’s a speech where she explains her feelings to Nayak, and how he gives her both love and respect, something she’d never received from a man before. It is thoroughly convincing, and gels with Bhumika not perhaps being “conventionally beautiful,” though she more than makes up for that in an intense and fiery charisma.

I suspect it probably counts as fairly raunchy by Bollywood standards, though this element would likely be PG-13 rated in the West. But it still doesn’t pull its punches, in its depiction of a society that is an enigmatic mix of old and new attitudes, both embracing and resisting change. I think I preferred this slightly more the first season, although without a grade to check, I can’t be certain! It feels like there is less emphasis on the domestic elements – the walking cliche who was Bhumika’s abusive and estranged husband, is barely there if at all. There’s definite scope for a third series, potentially pitting Bhumika directly against her commanding officer, Jason Fernandez (Kini). But before that, do I now need to go back and re-view season one? Stay tuned…

Creator: Imtiaz Ali
Star: Aaditi Pohankar, Kishore Kumar G, Vishwas Kini, Resh Limba