1864

Something of a departure for the 9pm Saturday night 'subtitle' slot on BBC4, '1864' is the new Danish drama series set during the Second Schleswig War, when Prussia and Austria forced Denmark to cede territory.  It opens at the end of the First Schleswig War in 1851, when Danish soldiers returned victorious.  Young Peter and Laust's father (Lars Mikkelson from 'The Killing') has been fatally weakened by a serious leg wound, while aristocratic Didrich (Pilou Asbaek from 'Borgen') has something we would recognise as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  We follow their lives from the rediscovered journal of Inge, the estate master's daughter who shares bookish Peter and robust Laust's idyllic childhood, when patriotic fervour bordered on arrogance.

There's an awkward framing device of a modern tearaway teenager, all hair dye, facial piercings and mouth, befriending the elderly curmudgeon in the 'big house', who will no doubt turn out to be Inge's son or grandson, and reading the diaries to him.  This is more than unlikely, it's a hackneyed old device, and while there was much to admire in these first two episodes (of eight - only one month's worth!), it felt overall as though it was aiming at Tolstoy and settling for one of those slick historical American mini-series from the 1980s along the lines of 'Washington' or 'North and South'.  Each episode ends with a montage of scenes from the forthcoming hour, set to rousing music, which is overblown to say the least.

Predictably, the brothers both fall in love with Inge before departing for war in 1863, while she is also lusted after by the now-depraved Didrich.  Handily, she prefers the manly, extrovert Laust, while there's a more suitable mate for Peter in the form of the gyspy daughter who shares his love of plants.  There are a number of TWNH moments therein, not least the drama convention of never speaking up when it would be obvious to do so, prolonging misunderstandings, and the way that 19th Century Inge is able to spend so much time unsupervised with young boys below her station in life.  As a backdrop, in case the Danes are as clueless as we are about obscure historical skirmishes, we are shown politician Monrad taking lessons in speechmaking from stage star Mrs. Heiberg  (Sidse Babett Knudsen, 'Borgen's Brigitte Nyeborg) and even get the odd glimpse of the Prussian court, Iron Chancellor Bismarck and Moltke, whose sights are firmly set on a Germanic empire - which ultimately lead, of-course, to two wars most nations will never forget.

It's apparently the most expensive Danish television show ever made, with the multi-funding clearly aimed at exports, and it looks sumptuous, whether fields of corn or book-lined interiors are on show.  It's interesting to see a European drama's take on history, rather than crime, and it's unlikely this will be spun out (1874? 1884?) but we've a feeling it's not going to be a box-set-buy.  The performances by some of the younger cast are a little uneven, and as for the poor animal in one particular scene... the less said, the better.

The Bridge

If you were planning a trip to Scandinavia this year, you'd be forgiven for having second thoughts.  The TV and film depictions only lend credence to the current news stories of a cold-blooded killer, featuring death, dismemberment, loners and Machiavellian double-crossing within the establishment.  'The Bridge' doesn't break the mould.  If anything it ups the ante a notch or two with a macabre double murder and some very dubious characters in just the first episode.

So far, it feels more akin to the violent and explicit 'Spiral' than its compatriots, with the necessary addition of dark-washed shots, rain and more rain.  It's gripping, or at least has hooks enough to keep an audience of BBC4 viewers watching episodes three and four next week (not least a cameo from a familiar face from the original 'Killing').

Where we may be in the minority is our unease about the main character of Saga.  She's almost a parody of Sarah Lund, a sort of Jennifer Saunders version.  She's not just terse, but silent or monosyllabic, and is so much at sea with emotions that she comes across as odd to everyone who meets her.  No-one has said the 'a' word, but she clearly lacks social skills and struggles to read faces and body language, taking words at their literal meaning.  Would anyone like this make a good detective?  She may be thorough, detailed and even a lateral thinker, but she'd surely be hopeless at solving a crime of passion?  Just as well that this is shaping up to be a misplaced-social-justice/abused person on ritual crusade kind of case, so she might stand some chance, but this misses the humanising core of 'The Killing', both series of which have so far been about family, duty and relationships.  Still less is it like 'Borgen', one of the most enjoyable and intelligent series of recent years.

We gave up with 'Those Who Kill' because its Danish credentials weren't enough.  And changing tops frequently and in public is no substitute for the amazing self-mending Lund jumper.

Those Who Kill

Another day, another Danish import.  This has Lars Mikkelsen ("Troels!" the mayoral candidate from 'The Killing') in it as a police boss, and a Sarah Lund-alike called Katrine.  It's basically a Danish version of the formulaic and rather nasty 'Wire in the Blood', with the first two-hour-minus-ads episode concerned with a ritual serial killer of young women bringing to mind the real Bundy and the fictional Hannibal.

It's efficiently done but unspectacular, and not in the same league as its recent compatriots.  And why do TV police insist on visiting burial sites alone in the middle of a winter's night?

Borgen

There's no escape.  'The Killing' has been too successful.  BBC4 is scouting for endless Danish drama to fill the 9pm Saturday slot.  Don't they want thinking viewers, those tough enough to flirt with double-episode subtitling, to have any Saturday nights on the town?  Don't they think the restaurants, cinemas, theatres and pubs need an economic boost?  Clearly not.  Of-course, we also have the likes of 'Wallander' and 'Spiral' to thank, and it's encouraging that we've not (yet) been awash with substandard Swedish and French serials in the wake of those.

'The Killing' has, in both series, featured the Danish political scene quite heavily, and in particularly the struggle between centre, right and left for control.  In terms of gripping viewing, the politics in both series has been eclipsed by the gruesome murders, so we crossed our fingers that this wouldn't be 'The Killing' minus killings.  We did get a body as a promising start, and we got slightly distracted by the appearance of Lund's sidekick and her love interest/villain from TK, (and doesn't the Labour leader Laugesen bear an uncanny resemblance to a youngish Peter Fonda?) but we only spotted one serious TWNH so far: the dead man was married, with children, and a senior politician to boot, and he died in the arms of his mistress in a rented flat.  The mistress calls an ex, also in politics, who takes very peremptory and wholly inadequate measures to disguise her presence in the flat.  Will reality bite and this catch up with him?  It should.

This is made by the same production team as TK, and the twists and turns of political intrigue are all present and correct, but less annoyingly - Nyborg is already being hailed as the new PM by the end of the first episode.  She is not de facto in the leader's chair, however, and her agonising negotiations with slippery colleagues are compelling stuff.  Will she compromise?  Will she win through and live happily ever after?  Or be found brutally murdered and a focus for Sarah Lund's next case?

What we like most, though, is the inclusiveness of these serials.  The cast are not unfeasibly gorgeous or well-dressed (knitted sweaters excepted), the characters not one-dimensionally bad, good or single-minded to further the plot.  Something may be rotten in the state of Denmark, but it's the politics, not the drama.