We've been glomming on Season 1 of The Killing, the Danish crime drama I've been loving for the last two years. Somehow I missed Season 1 but have the DVD set, so with Daughter Number One home, we're having a fine old time with Sarah Lund, Jan Meyer, Troels Hartmann, and a seemingly unsolveable murder.
The gritty reality of The Killing is compelling. I almost wouldn't recommend Season 1, since it's so painful to watch the grieving family of the murder victim, 19-year-old Nanna Birk Larsen. The father, Theis, is played by Bjarne Henriksen, who I've decided is one of the best Danish actors in what appears to be a short list. It's almost a joke how every Danish drama shares actors, such as Lars Mikkelsen, who plays politician Troels Hartmann and Søren Ravn in Borgen, and will soon be Sherlock's arch-nemesis in Season 3 of Sherlock.
Speaking of Sherlock, the British modern day detective series starring Benedict Cumberbatch, we caught the third episode of Season 2 last night, the one where Sherlock falls from the top of St Bart's hospital. I found it almost unbearable, having watched The Killing just a half hour previously. The contrast between the realistic dramatization of Forbrydelsen (the Danish name of The Killing) vs the slick, far-fetched, lampoon-ish plot had my head spinning (and that was before I closed my eyes for the last ten minutes, due to my vertigo).
I'm a little tired, frankly, of Sherlock's "ability" to look at a person and divine everything about them in seconds: "I know what you did last night just by glancing at your fingernails." This originally clever bit of characterization jumped the shark by season 2. It's no longer clever or entertaining. And ever since the "mind palace" gimmick in "The Hound of the Baskervilles," we've been forced to view the inner workings of Sherlock's brain rendered as scrolling Helvetica script and some computer beeps.
It's all a bit much, though still entertaining, if for nothing else than to see what new implausible scene the script will bring. I wouldn't be surprised to see Gandalf walk through the wardrobe at 221B Baker Street. He will, of course, promptly have his fingernails examined.
Mark Gattis needs to bring in some Danish screenwriters for next season (which is, sadly, too late, since they'll finish up filming for episode three in the series shortly). They could even throw in a few of those Danish swear words I've been learning (guess which one I used for this post title?).
I'd like just a little more reality, and a lot more plausibility, with my Sherlock, please. Until season 3 airs, I'll be contemplating the snowflakes on Sarah Lund's infamous jumper, and trying to figure out who done it.