In spite of the cosmic injustice that has made Stephen R. Lawhead more famous and successful than me, I figure I’ll showcase my generosity of spirit by posting the trailer above, for the Daily Wire’s coming production of The Pendragon Cycle.
You can’t always tell from trailers, but it looks to me as if it might possibly not be awful. One doesn’t look for great historical authenticity, of course (as if I know enough about the ancient Britons to be able to judge), but I’d probably watch it if I had a Daily Wire subscription. Doubtless it will become available through some other venue, down the line.
It’s an odd thing – back in my day, money spent on making a movie generally provided some clue to quality of production. A production that looked cheap usually skimped on talent as well.
But today, most of the technical bells and whistles are available to any amateur working in his/her basement, with only a moderate investment. And the big studios dump sufficient money to fill small lakes into one bloated, CGI-laden project after another, and produce consistent dreck.
So I wish the Daily Wire people, and Stephen Lawhead too, all the best in this.
One of these days (probably shortly after my death), my Erling books will get their turn. I choose to believe that, because that’s the game I chose to play in my life, and it’s too late now to sign onto a tramp steamer.
I’d been waiting a long time to see the Wisting miniseries. It was one of the very first projects I worked on as a screenplay translator, and the scripts impressed me so much I tried the original books by Jørn Lier Horst. I became a fan, and I generally don’t like Scandinavian Noir.
When the series was finally released for American audiences, it was streamed on the Sundance Channel, which limited its audience. It’s now available on Amazon Prime, but you have to pay an extra fee to stream it. I waited in frustration for further developments, and finally broke down and ordered the Blu-Ray.
More than I usually pay for discs, but I have a personal stake in this one.
I was in no way disappointed.
If you recall from my book reviews (here’s one), William Wisting is a police detective in the small city of Larvik, Norway. He’s played here by Sven Nordin, who possesses perhaps the perfect glum Scandinavian Noir face. He’s still mourning the recent death of his wife, and copes by obsessing on his work, with the result that both his adult children feel neglected and resentful. Justifiably.
When a murdered man’s body is found under a tree on a Christmas tree farm, an item on the body carries the fingerprint of one of America’s most wanted serial killers. Once forensics prove that the dead man could not have been the fugitive, a pair of FBI agents, led by Maggie Griffin, played by Carrie-Ann Moss, are sent over from the US to “consult.” Naturally there is friction between the two teams, but unsteady progress is made.
Meanwhile, Williams’ daughter Line (Thea Green Lundberg), a journalist for VG, one of Norway’s major newspapers, decides to do a story on the man who lived next door to the Wistings, who was found dead in his chair, unmissed by anyone for months. When she begins to suspect the man was murdered, her father thinks her imagination has run away with her… an attitude he will come to regret.
That’s the first five episodes. The second five involve a separate, but slightly related case a few months later. The FBI is gone now, and all the dialogue is subtitled Norwegian.
The discovery of the serial killer in the previous case calls into question a local man’s conviction for kidnapping and murder in the same period. His lawyer accuses Wisting, as chief investigator, of evidence tampering. Wisting is temporarily suspended, but that doesn’t stop him investigating secretly (and illegally). Plus a young girl who had appealed to the police for protection because she “felt” she was being stalked, actually disappears.
Line, at the same time, is doing a story on a man who was murdered in a park while walking his dog. Her interviews with the man’s few friends raise her suspicions about who might be responsible; she too gets suspended from her job.
Themes of social alienation and human barriers pervade the series, enhanced by wonderful photography. Especially in the first half, set in the winter, black-on-white, angular winter landscapes convey an evocative, barren mood. This is not picture-postcard Norway – Larvik boasts neither magnificent fjords nor high mountains. It’s a workaday place for workaday human tragedies.
Wisting was extremely well acted, tightly plotted, and suspenseful. It sucked me into bingeing on it, and I’m pretty sure it would have done so if I hadn’t had a (small) part in the production.
In fact, I was surprised how little I had contributed. There were only a handful of scenes in the 9th episode that I remember translating. A couple earlier scenes, I think, were highly revised and compressed versions of ones I worked on as well.
Highly recommended, though pricey. Cautions for language, disturbing situations, and some nudity.
The second season of the Icelandic miniseries, Trapped, (I reviewed Season One below) was – in some ways – superior to the first (in my view). There were parts I didn’t care for, but I admit that was mostly due to my personal opinions and tastes.
Two years have passed since we last saw our bearded hero,
Andri Olafsson (Olafur Darri Olafsson). He’s moved back to Reykjavik to be a
cop there again, one assumes to be close to his daughters, who were living with
his ex-wife. Only the older one, Thorhildur, has returned to the small town of
Siglufjordur to be close to her friends – especially a particular boy. She is
now a rebellious teenager, and in the tradition of teenaged girls in thrillers,
is a complete idiot when it comes to her personal safety.
Andri is called back to Siglufjordur when a local farmer one
day appears near Parliament in Reykjavik, sets himself on fire, and tries to
ignite the Minister of Industries along with himself. She is, in fact, his twin
sister, a Siglufjordur native who long ago turned her back on the place. He had
been involved in protests against the expansion of an aluminum plant near his
home, as well as with right-wing nationalist groups. Shortly after Andri is
reunited with his old team of local cops, a manager at the plant is murdered,
setting off a string of crimes and arrests that culminate in a kidnapping and a
pursuit across the heaths.
There were several elements in the series that rubbed me the
wrong way. One was the involvement of right-wing groups – though when I think
of it, they were treated with surprising understanding. Another was the cliché of
the predatory industry that thinks it can make money by killing its customers.
Most uncomfortable of all was a subplot about homosexuals. Instead of the brief
heterosexual sex scene we saw in the first series, this time we got two men
involved in displays of affection – at one point in bed together. These are my
principles – I care about whether homosexuals live or die. I care that they not
be railroaded for crimes they didn’t commit. But I cannot be made to care whether
the boy gets the boy. There is no microscope sensitive enough to detect my
interest in that subject.
Another problem is the family relationships. Most of the
suspects (and victims) are bound (in classic saga style, I’ll admit) by a bewildering
tangle of marriages, divorces, and irregular liaisons. Everybody is a cousin or
an in-law of all the others, and for the life of me I couldn’t keep it all straight.
On the other hand, there were some fine elements here.
Because this story is set in the fall, we lose the claustrophobia of the snowed-in
town that so permeated Season One. Now we’re treated to vistas of Icelandic
heaths and mountains, herds of horses and flocks of sheep. Conscious tribute is
paid to the sagas, especially in a plot thread where a local boy flees the
police on horseback across the fells, looking for all the world like an outlaw
of old.
The resolution worked out in the same spirit as Season One –
the mystery is solved, the hostage rescued, but in a general environment of
ancient injuries, unhealed psychological wounds, and the shock of an Episode 8
plot development that blindsided me (at least).
All in all, fascinating TV, and pretty watchable. Cautions
for language and all the stuff I talked about.
My part-time job keeps me generally aware of Scandinavian miniseries, but somehow this Icelandic one, a few years old now, had escaped my notice. Trapped (Ófærð) is a crime series that has much in common with so many European crime series these days (except that the main character, instead of being a plucky single mother, is a plucky single father). But it‘s interesting in its own right, and the locations are fresh and scenic.
On a winter‘s day in the small northern Iceland town of Siglufjordur, a headless, limbless torso is fished out of the fjord. Since the ferry from Denmark just came in, the police have to detain the boat and all its passengers – displeasing the passengers, the crew, and the Danish government. The “big boys“ from the Reykjavik police are supposed to come in to investigate, but a sudden blizzard grounds all aircraft and road travel. So the responsibility falls on the three-person local force, most especially on the chief, Andri Olafsson (played by Olafur Darri Olafsson, surely a contender for some award for the most generously bearded TV detective in recent memory).
But Andri’s problems aren’t limited to solving the torso murder. There are the difficulties associated with the blizzard, as well as an avalanche that follows. Questions arise anew over a crime from the past – the death of Andri’s ex-wife’s sister in a fire in a fish factory, for which a young man went to prison (unjustly). There’s also a human trafficking investigation, involving two young Nigerian girls wandering lost in the snow. And there is political chicanery on the part of the town’s governing authorities, all involved in a shady land scheme with the Chinese.
It all works out to be pretty fascinating. The main character is a compelling and principled presence on screen, and the production values are high (this was the most expensive miniseries ever made in Iceland). The resolution ties up loose ends pretty well, though it’s typically Scandinavian in being rather downbeat and bleak. The Icelandic title has a broader meaning than the English word – it also refers to a blocked road. A running theme is the discontent of the town’s young people, who feel trapped in one of the remotest towns in a generally remote country.
But I enjoyed Trapped, and recommend it, with cautions for language, sex, brief nudity, and disturbing themes. There’s a second season, too.
I have approval now to tell you about another Norwegian TV miniseries I helped translate. You may recall the name Wisting, because I reviewed several of the books on which this series is based, written by Jørn Lier Horst. I couldn’t say it at the time, but I got interested in the books when I worked on the TV scripts (though I admit I only helped with a couple). The books seem to be out of print in English right now, but I suspect they’re preparing a new edition to tie in with the miniseries.
Should be interesting. It’s been broadcast in Norway already,
so I would look for it to show up on Netflix or something before very long.
Recommended, with cautions for the sort of things you’d expect.
Back in 2006, a French movie appeared, based on Harlan Coben’s novel Tell No One. I’ve seen it on Netflix. It’s a pretty good thriller. Coben says he agreed to sell the rights to the French company rather than taking an American offer, because the filmmakers understood the story – that it’s primarily a love story, not a mystery.
Although he takes his material overseas again (this time to England) for the miniseries Safe, available for viewing now on Netflix, I think it’s not as successful as the French movie. But it’s a pretty fair entertainment.
In spite of the uprooted location, Safe is a very recognizable Coben story. You’ve got a secure (in this case gated) upper middle-class suburban community, where neighbors are friends and everybody knows everybody’s business (or thinks they do). You’ve got a family friend who tells some of the kids that if they ever need a designated driver, call him night or day – no questions, no snitching to the parents. You’ve got a teenagers’ party that gets out of hand – a boy drowns. Then a girl disappears. Then the clues lead back to very old, buried secrets.
American actor Michael C. Hall plays Dr. Tom Delaney, widowed father of the missing girl. (His English accent sounds OK to me, but apparently the actual English have laughed at it.) His relationship with his daughter Jenny (Amy James-Kelly) has been strained, since her mother’s death from cancer. He desperately tries to trace Jenny’s movements on the night of the party, assisted by his best friend, a gay doctor, and his girlfriend, a police detective. Clues lead to drug dealing, concealment of a body, and a guilty secret shared by members of the close-knit community.
I found the solution, and the Big Surprise that followed it, a little improbable and forced. However, the series as a whole was compelling and I enjoyed it. Cautions for mature themes and a few obscenities.
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