Tales from the Crypt Season 4

Tales from the Crypt Season 4 Continues the Scary Quality

by Kristin Battestella

Summer of 92's fourteen episode Season Four of Tales from the Crypt once again sources the titular comics alongside Crime Suspense Stories, Haunt of Fear, and Vault of Horror for more choice frights, spooky guests, and cheeky thrills.

Director Tom Hanks cameos along with fellow The 'burbs alum Henry Gibson and boxer cum grave digger Sugar Ray Leonard in the “None but the Lonely Heart” premiere as Treat Williams (Everwood) endures the old lady lipstick before a little poison and another funeral. Killing rich dames is good business, but he needs one more gal to make his fortune before his past comes back to haunt him. Unfortunately, anyone wise to the fatal gigolo might have his head mashed into the television or tie stuck in the paper shredder. Our Crypt Keeper host, meanwhile, is a 'boo it yourselfer' hitting his thumb with the hammer and building a swing set so he can 'hang around' for “This'll Kill Ya” with scientists Dylan McDermott (Olympus Has Fallen) and Sonia Braga (The Rookie). Medicine bottles, insulin injections, long legs, and dead bodies in the trunk don't mix! These radical experiments aren't ready for human trials, but love triangles and mixing business with pleasure make for unreliable antidotes, erroneous injections, and steamy bad habits. Zooms, neon flashes, and rapid montages add to the virus paranoia, patient delirium, boils, and oozing skin. Although the initial edgy music and bad ass language falls flat to start director William Friedkin's (The Exorcist) “On a Deadman's Chest,” C.K. does his Elvis impersonation amid the heavy metal arguing and groupies in leather. Tia Carrere (Wayne's World) is the new bride coming between the band, but freaky snake tattoos lead to a magical artist who says he can solve our musician's problems. There's more graphic sex and nudity this half hour, and the old fashioned needling and talk of putting what's on the inside on the flesh set off the voodoo-esque parlor as the music tensions spiral out of control with fatal bathtubs and gory skin peels. I dare say, there are also some slightly homoerotic themes, too, with mesmerizing snakes, a woman coming between men, a man unable to escape who he really is, and body dysmorphia horror. Likewise, older actress Mimi Rogers (Ginger Snaps) is being replaced by her younger, willing roommate Kathy Ireland (Alien from L.A.) for the behind the scenes meta of “Beauty Rest” with 'Ball Buster' perfume commercials and little creaky push ups from the Crypt Keeper. The seductive, sassy start turns into pageant rivalries and poisoned cookies as the ladies argue whether sleeping to the top or killing to get ahead is worse – but the unusual contest questions and the secret winnings remind the ladies that it's really what's inside that counts. Shady landlord rocker Meatloaf pressures restaurant owner Christopher Reeve (Somewhere in Time) in “What's Cookin',” however bus boy Judd Nelson (The Breakfast Club) has some new barbecue recipes for the bodies hanging in the freezer. Local cop Art LaFleur (House Hunting) also develops a taste for flame broiled flesh at the booming steakhouse, and the superior turnabout is set off with red lighting, sizzling grills, and all the expected puns from our host.

Bad ratings and the threat of cancellation thanks to shock jock Robert Patrick (Terminator 2) leads shrink radio host David Warner (Wallander) to make an on air visit with frequent caller Zelda Rubenstein (Teen Witch) in “The New Arrival.” His The Art of Ignoring Your Child book, however, doesn't help the screaming girl thanks to the masks and booby traps in this spooky manor with dark stairs and a dangerous attic. Not to mention the attacker points of view, deadly twists, and ceiling fan mishaps. C. Keep is looking for a home on 'derange' marked 'souled' in “Maniac at Large,” but meek Blythe Danner (Huff) doesn't feel safe in her library thanks to trouble causing ruffians and newspaper reports of a serial killer on the loose. Creepy music by Bill Conti (North and South) adds to the unease as late night cataloging and book piles in the basement build paranoia. Suspense editing and strategic lighting escalate the alarms, knives, vandalism, and possible intruders as the headline hype spirals out of control. Producer Joel Silver directs the memorable “Split Personality” as Joe Pesci (Goodfellas) romances twins by pretending he is also a set of twins where one always has to be away on business. Split screen camera work and intercut conversations accent the double talk, but these possessive ladies are not to be taken advantage of by anyone. Everything has to be fifty-fifty, and despite swanky tunes and casino style, the luck is going to run out on this con thanks to Tales from the Crypt's unforgettable brand of saucy, graphic, and cheeky. The Crypt Keeper has some therapy on the rack to open “Strung Along” because he's 'a little stiff everyday,' but recovering puppeteer Donald O'Connor (There's No Business Like Show Business) is nostalgic for his old black and white kids show. Heart attacks and sentiment, unfortunately, clash with his younger, bikini clad wife. His creepy clown marionette also seems to have a life of his own, and increasingly dark designs set off the affairs, love letters, and shocking betrayals before the full moon of “Werewolf Concerto.” Chanting music and infrared animal perspectives add to the chases, howls, and hairy attackers as sexy guest Beverly D'Angelo (National Lampoon's Vacation) is trapped in a hotel with wolf hunter Timothy Dalton (Penny Dreadful) amid piano compositions, double crosses, and gunpoint standoffs. The werewolf revelations and race to beat the moonrise are superb, surprises again combining for some of Tales from the Crypt's best winks, scares, and star power. The wilderness solitude for Kevin McCarthy (Invasion of the Body Snatchers) and the late Margot Kidder (Black Christmas) in the “Curiosity Killed” finale only acerbates the marital insults. However, their fellow campers have a special tonic that might curb the catty aging. Excellent interplay and fountain of youth sympathy build to the inevitable topper with night blooming jasmine, bugs, graves, moonlight madness, disturbing gore, and all the irony to match.

Unfortunately, Tales from the Crypt does briefly sag mid season with the double dealings, blackmail, and swindling resets of “Seance.” The candles, incantations, and Old World atmosphere of the psychic parlor are just a smokescreen for mid century hustles and colloquial put ons with Ben Cross (Dark Shadows) and even Crypt Keeper Investigations doing a Sam Spade spoof with 'No headstone left unturned.' The noir aesthetic looks great, but this is another typical crime plot with lawyers, money, and a tacked on supernatural bookend. Our Keeper's wearing adorable little chaps and a cowboy hat as Tales from the Crypt producer Richard Donner directs “Showdown.” Sunsets, haze, bleak shadows, and dry orange vistas add a surreal, hellish look to the horses and gunslingers. There are quick draws, snake oil tonics, and ghosts in the saloon, but this non-linear tale is dark and tough to see with a distorted passage of time and too much confusion about what should be an interesting question on who's dead or alive. The pace both drags over nothing yet maybe it's also a story worthy of more than a half hour. Star power is also surprisingly lacking, however, the next episode “King of the Road” has Brad Pitt (The Counselor), hot rods, and disturbing street racing collisions yet also misses the mark. Even the Keeper is too busy doing 'A Mid summer Night's Scream' instead. Both these episodes come from original scripts with loose ties to a Two-Fisted Tales movie adaptation, and the hooking up with the cop's daughter, blackmail, kidnapping, and spiders in the mailbox are pointless torment. Cool veneer, music montage filler – it's scarier that there are no English subtitles on the bare bones Season Four DVD set!

Thankfully, the full opening intro once again plays with each Tales from the Crypt episode, and macabre soul that I am, I love studying it for home décor ideas. Word processors, big old retro televisions, vintage cameras, video dating services, and VHS stuck in the VCR add to the mod eighties style, all white designs, and old lady mauve. Older blue nighttime lighting invokes the cemetery mood, and purple hues or Art Deco black and white tones create flavor with very little. Forties styles, long stem cigarettes, and big hats go far while fire, candles, and thunderstorms provide atmosphere regardless of setting. Bright luxuries contrast the dark dated nineties clubs, but there are still high-waisted jeans and the occasional shoulder pads on the ladies alongside the lingering one giant earring trend and big blowout hairstyles. The language and gore are also a little tame to start the season – perhaps the producers were already thinking of the future syndication reruns beyond HBO. However, black lingerie, thongs, nudity, and further saucy actions are still somewhat risque. Jump cuts and repeat zooms both cover production corners as well as build onscreen intense while heart pulsing rhythms and sound effects accent the bloody prosthetics and horror makeup. Several practical monster effects remain surprisingly good, and creepy old homes, dangerous antiques, and spooky staircases join the slimy recently deceased or skeletons from the grave. 

 

There are a few slip ups in this short but otherwise choice season. However, once again Tales from the Crypt turns out a fun little marathon with Season Four's campy chills and scary stars making for some of the series' best.

Contemporary British Horror Shows

Contemporary British Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

These short series, documentaries, and films hailing from across the pond were made recently, but carry a whiff of history and period piece air nonetheless. While some are quality, bizarre, or cheesy and some are frightfully bad and confusing – these bonus British flavors are at the moment all on Hulu Plus and Amazon Video for stateside anglophiles. Yippee!

The Secret of Crickley Hall – Eerie reverse negative titles and ominous music set the cold, isolated mood for this three hour 2006 miniseries based upon the titular novel, and past screams immediately disturb present dreams – contrasting previous trauma with contemporary family mornings, and sassy daughter Maisie Williams (Game of Thrones). Despite great locales and a lovely manor house mixing updated designs, old décor, creaking stairs, hiding nooks, and divine woodwork, we know moving to a spooky home won't overcome the playground abductions, guilt, and hysteria – even the family dog knows what's afoot. Fortunately, the modern setting is not intrusive, allowing for jump scares in the attic, basement warnings, and potential family psychic connections amid Blitz orphanage harshness, period fashions, stiff upper lip severe, and handyman David Warner (Titanic) linking the two eras. This parallel storytelling may be irksome to some, however the scenes are well matched and balanced evenly. Neither feels as if one time is intruding upon the other, and both plots are needed to tell the tale. The editing is also shrewdly concurrent, almost as if past and present coexist – eliminating the need for a research montage or catch all flashback now that we see the history in real time. Mass drownings, gravestones all with the same year, food is a reward not a right in this school, and the viewer not only believes these times are standing still enough to merge but we want the current residents to reveal all. Is mom Suranne Jones (Coronation Street) willing to risk her children at hand to find those lost? Does she hear what she wants to believe? Marital disagreements and ghostly interactions escalate as past papers are discovered, but the tone remains self aware with wise youths, reluctant mediums, and a parsonage looking the other way. While not super scary, the suspense and good drama let the audience speculate on past nasty and root for righteous schoolteacher Olivia Cooke (Bates Motel). Of course, as usual, the scientific man is unconvinced despite encounters and the wife with loss is a seemingly erroneous believer. Rival psychics help or hinder the past darkness and shadows – sometimes visually mirroring a near black and white patina. Suggestive water, phantom canings, surprising deaths, and evil old ladies bring everything together. Though some people and plot points are obvious, witnessing this past still very much in the present has far more impact, and some frightful retribution makes from a fine finish.

The Toy Box – Animated legends and Norfolk fairytales open this 2005 slasher with happy kids games and magical storytelling – until a pet ends up in the blender...yeah. Colorful interiors, a quirky house, and should be quaint locales set the scene for holiday family gatherings, but creepy artwork is being sent in the mail – er post – and unnecessary, shaky cam zooms interfere with the bizarre parents, crazy granny, too close siblings, and taut tension at the table. Choppy editing keeps restarting the story with little explanation on who is who, and numerous scenes fade out without really ending or serving any purpose. This film reeks of an incomplete fly by night production disguised as weird trying to be avante garde – enough with the ritual echos, unexplained nonsensical, and juvenile cartoons. Though shrewd, affordable, and in keeping with the child fantasy aspects; the animated recountings of local myths also feel like the cheapest way to show rather than tell. This animation and the disjointed childhood flashbacks delay the story at hand when websites, books, and intriguing characters telling tales about the fire is information enough. Along with distorted dreams and just the right amount of gore, mysterious amulets, candlelight dinners, smoky mirror reflections, snow, and meat hooks build mood over the eighty minutes. Yes, too many confusing things are happening and much of this will be too out there or just plain dumb for some audiences. It's tough to forgive the low budget mistakes and struggling production shortchange dominating over all the good potential, violence, and horrors, too. Fortunately, there are enough frights in the final act for viewers to hang in there for the twisted enjoyment of seeing folks get what they deserve.

Maybe Try...

Bedlam – Spooky visuals, text message warnings, and phantom GPS directions are just the beginning for this 2011 six episode debut brimming with old fashioned writing on the mirror and ghosts in the machine – all at the titular asylum cum luxury apartments, of course. The credits are creepy, however the in your face music and trying to be saucy indicates the soap opera oriented roommate make outs, emo meets yuppie players, and bad twentysomething chic styles. The who and why fors aren't immediately established – institution history, adoptions, and three hundred year old family secrets wait thanks to easy ghost of the week clichés. The adulterous Bitch, Black Best Friend, and Bi-curious labels also stereotypically define the characters by their relationships rather than the individuals they are, and Chiseled Cheekbone Psychic White Guy Theo James (Divergent) feels been there done that. His ghostly vision jolts are pretty humorous yet his hotness flusters all, and everyone must behave stupidly for the horrors to happen – like pulling on the locked doorknob to escape when the top half of the door is a window. If our star can see one's death by touch then why do we need person of the week coincidences? Some special effects are for the viewer's sake as well, erroneously calling attention to the medium instead of building atmospheric immersion when other minimal ghost visuals and distorted camerawork are enough. Dreams, dark car parks, eerie red lighting, and ghoulish green ghosts certainly make it difficult for Hugo Speer (The Full Monty) to keep his family building business in the black. Phenomena on the security cameras, vehicular horrors, creepy construction, research history, and period flashes are much more interesting than any hip drama, too. A crazy conspiracy lady, who knows what revelations, spiritual interventions for good or ill, and colonial bad karma are all much better shady alongside little girl ghosts, dangerous turrets, and dead bodies. It's tough to watch these forty plus minute episodes individually and a fast marathon is better, however the latter half is more focused on the spooky rather than sexy with hidden room horrors, tarot cards, and evidence burned leading to a multi level finale topper.

But Skip...

Bedlam Series 2 – Although you kind of have to see what happens next, I wasn't going to continue this Second six episode season thanks to too many meh characters in Year One. Although the total cast revamp makes this seem like an entirely different show, unfortunately, the reset only makes things worse with more making out yuppie flatmates and the replacement of one scheming a-hole manager for another ruining the refreshingly diverse casting. Let's test prospective clients by fact checking them on trips to Thailand because we all hop, skip, jump, and vacay when we can't pay the rent, yeah! New EMT who sees the dead Lacey Turner (EastEnders) is in search of answers from last season, however her constant screaming and crying gets old very fast. Hugo Speer has good paranormal encounters but still looks the other way at deadly history – and rebounds by fetishing with his daughter's Asian BFF. Ominous construction, creepy pictures, and blurred imagery add to the phantom toys, and recurring ghosts, but the hip bar, pool, and gym don't make us care about the weekly resident drama. A dead bride covered with blood surely wants more than calling off a modern wedding – too many easy solutions or dismissals give no spiritual restitution. Heck, the series Wikipedia page has more detail than what's onscreen, and candelabras or abandoned chapels don't hide the padded run time. Despite dun dun dun familial twists – which brings out pathetic racist reactions from the all these jerks – and abortion bombshells, ten minutes of a possessed Autistic boy chanting in Latin is more interesting than all the ham-fisted here, which I barely finished watching.

You Make the Call...

Great British Ghosts – This 2011 documentary series isn't herky jerky, boo, what's that, paranormal investigators in your face – which audiences so, so tired of that faux reality trend will prefer. Unfortunately, I can't tell if this presentation is meant to be taken as serious or comical, and I am leaning more towards thinking these Brits are taking the piss, as they say, with viewers. The infrequent male narrator comes and goes willy nilly, but he says me, we, and I while the woman hosting the series goes to the places and does the actions he describes. Such an error wouldn't matter if the creepy was getting while the creepy's good, however, the paranormal stories themselves are poorly presented almost as an afterthought. Our omnipresent man and female guide go to an establishment and chat with someone marginally credible who awkwardly shares how one time they felt something. Maybe they didn't see anything, but they knew it was there! Once, another employee/guest/relative thought they heard something, got scared, won't come back, and Bob's your uncle this place is haunted. Rather than sharing specific histories of grizzly events that would lead to such eponymous activity, the entire show is all just a lot of hearsay. Again, some audiences may enjoy this kind of casual, hand-held, and rural experience rather than a windblown talking head historian, but the meandering segments feel overlong anyway at only twenty-two minutes. Honestly, I didn't finish all twenty episodes and just wanted to put it on mute. While some accents will be tougher than others are, it wasn't the all over the place dictation that was so bothersome – I just wanted to look at all the pretty places in peace. The superb locales, medieval architecture, and historic scenery we don't have stateside are the only things really working here. Had this presentation been styled as America's Castles with spooky voiceovers anchoring a video tour of ye olde haunted, well then, yes please!

Penny Dreadful: Season 1

Penny Dreadful Debuts with Scary Sophistication

by Kristin Battestella

The 2014 Showtime series Penny Dreadful has some hiccups in blending the stylish past and its literary based madcap of monsters and macabre. Fortunately, shrewd writing and a gothic, sophisticated approach keeps this eight episode debut a cut above the rest.

The alluring but mysterious Vanessa Ives (Eva Green) recruits Wild West show shooter Ethan Chandler (Josh Hartnett) for a dangerous mission headed by explorer Sir Malcolm Murray (Timothy Dalton). No longer climbing mountains with his manservant Sembene (Danny Sapani), Sir Malcolm is searching for his daughter Mina (Olivia Llewellyn), who has been abducted by a vampire master while brutal, butchering violence shocks the post-Ripper London. Young Doctor Victor Frankenstein (Harry Treadaway) aides Sir Malcolm while Vanessa has several risky dalliances with the enticing Dorian Gray (Reeve Carney). Victor's monster Caliban (Rory Kinnear), however, pressures the doctor to do his wishes, and Dorian has encounters of his own with Ethan's immigrant girlfriend, the ill prostitute Brona Croft (Billie Piper). Will the supernatural secrets of this unusual group unite them or tear the team apart as they go head to head with vampires, demons, and monsters in hopes of saving Mina?

Not having all the trademarks to Dracula gave Penny Dreadful creator and Oscar nominated writer John Logan and fellow Skyfall and Spectre James Bond producer Sam Mendes an excellent dramatic license to combine the gothic tropes we know and love along with uniquely macabre off shoots. The expected upscale period splendor is here yet the cinematic film quality and realistic visual schemes add a dark and dirty as each episode narrows the character focus and clues the viewer in on these bizarre circumstances. It's downright fun to guess who is actually who, as not all of our similar but different literary inspirations are immediately named or their secrets revealed. My husband doesn't know what's up with Dorian Gray and I'm not going to tell him! The audience takes the paranormal leap along with the psychic connections and horrific elements thanks to the character concentration, great dialogue, and a writing first approach instead of the more recent lame brained gore over substance horror. The well written, likable players make literary allusions themselves and the sophisticated conversations don't insult the viewer – though that's not to say their isn't some shocking, then colorful language or scandalous words flavoring the ghastly polish. Racist, of the time terms are also unfortunately necessary, but honest conversations about American Indian history and past injustices make up for the occasional harsh term along with parallel circumstances and bitter, supernatural lessons not learned. Wild West side show parodies and horrible killings set this miserable Victorian mood in Episode One “Night Work” while Latin prayers, an opium house, Nosferatu underlings, monsters, and abductions add to the titular creepy along with a macabre mix of the well dressed, violent fighting, mysterious Arabic, and Egyptian Book of the Dead hints. How did this disparate crew get into this dark underbelly? The good versus evil and seemingly untarnished layers aren't as clear as we think. Do our players find themselves amid the spiritual realm between life and death or the new world of science – or are their transgressions across both?

"Seance" introduces more Penny Dreadful players to the dockside desolate with prostitution, tuberculosis, and Dr. Frankenstein joining the fold. Everyone has a secret – Victor, his creations, and the so pretty yet so naughty Dorian Gray. Are the crimes about London related to these concealed truths and Sir Malcolm's paranormal quest? The saucy is both demented and artistically done even if it is also slightly over the top, but the intriguing dialogue continues alongside the parlor fun and spiritualism winks. What can I say, it's simply great to hear people use big words, and the titular sequence is superb. Vanessa's unrevealed role to play goes wild, hooking the audience thanks to creepy voices, hidden history, and possession. Demonic language, sad revelations, and frightening powers – I'd leave that table! At only 48 minutes, Episode Three “Resurrection” is shorter than Penny Dreadful's usually true hour long airtime, but this segment focusing on Victor adds some flashback colorful before unpoetic death enters in and a bloody convulsing spurns Victor's goals as his mother is snatched from him. Do our violent births, first rejections, and brushes with death irrevocably shape our outlook on life? The Caliban framing narration slows the pace, but transferring the monster's plot to a theatre underground adds a Phantom of the Opera-esque gory onstage pulp. The zoo showdowns, wolfy scares, and captured informants, however, are more sinister, and details about finding Mina and the antagonism between our players are more interesting than Caliban's complaints.

Penny Dreadful could have been cheap and nasty in showing Dorian Gray's depravity in “Demimonde,” but I'm glad it doesn't go there despite his increasingly extreme desperation. His creepy mirrors, photography, and secret passages juxtaposed nicely against innocent questions, sad burials, and melancholy churches where one is not sure she is permitted entry. Bright outdoor scenes and delicate orchids belie dangerous nightshade and peril in beauty. Is there a method to nature's madness or these supernatural apparitions? The show within a show audiences and theatre behind the scenes add more dimension, and players previously unknown interact as Vanessa's revelations happen in Episode Five “Closer than Sisters.” Childhood beach side splendor, white lace and sunshine evoke the time before Penny Dreadful began, when evil temptations, sexual desires, and “little acts of wickedness” lead to much more. This past recounting is better than Caliban's bitterness because this is the root cause for Vanessa and the show's main quest – creepy taxidermy and tales of safari cannibals hint at macabre to come. Do we willfully choose this dark path over prayers unanswered as jealousy and hatred mount? Are evil possessions at work on a corrupted soul or is physical illness the cause of a sickly body? The hospital cruelty and institutional torment are just as dehumanizing as the demonic possibilities. Who is at fault for such suffering and sin when the devil is your friend? Penny Dreadful puts all its gothic sin, salvation, and transgressions together here, and “What Death Can Join Together” moves the action forward as our team learns to forgive themselves. Plague ship battles are congested, intimate, and messy with rats, vampires, and monsters. Dreadful prices, divine gifts, escalating desires, and internal, self referential ironies are not lost on this merry outfit as evil of all shapes and sizes ups the ante.

Minimal but dangerous levitation and flying objects are smartly used in Episode Seven “Possession,” and Penny Dreadful's motley family huddles in support of the titular victim – not that they always keep it together as they face their inner demons, however. Insects and manifestations mount as hidden truths will out, and things get ugly as people lose control, fight loved ones, and try to reach the lost souls. Foul language, demonic speaking, and symbolic snow add to the great performances all around as the science versus spirit debate rages. Does demonic possession belong in the realm of the religious or will standard doctoring do? These divides unite our players, strengthening their trust in each other against evil without the usual smoke and mirror exorcism spectacles. Penny Dreadful remains personal with excellent agonizing screams, weary witnesses, and sickly pallors as faith, friendships, and romances are tested. In a lengthy 24 episode season, this episode would be a bottle show thanks to its contained nature. However, some lofty material goes down with Penny Dreadful's five core players without them even leaving the house. Hot damn. “Grand Guignol” puts all the outside factors and interior influences together for the finale's multilevel theatrical showdown. Stage ropes and trap doors add to the vampire peril as characters come to new truths and surprising bonds are made. Can redemption yet be found? Has everyone done their part in this play? Of course, there are subtle implications left for Season Two, possible future plots culminate, and Penny Dreadful certainly tells us that death isn't quite so definitive.

I feel like I'm glowing with praise, but Penny Dreadful is not without its fair share of debut problems. While there are no excessive, panorama, look at the monster so cool camera works; cliche, bad ass walking transitions, dark meetings on street corners, and lengthy establishing shots meander when a cut to already being where we need to be would do. There aren't that many flashy for flashy's sake moments, but modern shock editing, zooms, and dark vampy battle scenes are iffy at times, and the closed captioning is also sometimes more amusing then atmospheric with its “screams reverb and flow into the night” or how every door simply must “creak” open. Quibbles, yes, but the story lines on Penny Dreadful themselves are unevenly paced and not equally interwoven – something that should be easy to do across only eight episodes. Unnecessary support takes up time from the relatively straight forward, supposedly primary vampire abduction quest, and the ongoing carnivorous murders about town are poorly handled, sprinkled throughout the season along with Egyptian themes. Both are trumped as being of critical importance then disappear before the previouslies introducing the episode or obvious flashbacks and foreshadowing shoehorn them in again. It's superb to see bisexuality on Penny Dreadful, however, same sex material is bizarrely montaged over – and isn't as equal opportunity nude or graphic as the other heterosexual kinky scenes, either. Evil and sexual acts or on the nose light and dark symbolism are also linked together, but perhaps these naughty ties are in commentary on hypocritical Victorian ways. Penny Dreadful is a great show upon the first watch, but picking through it with too many fine toothed comb viewings can crack its veneer.

Fortunately, Eva Green (Casino Royale) looks dynamite in period regalia as Vanessa Ives. Lace frocks, wild up dos, and red lips add allure, but Green remains can't look away stunning when stripped bare, down and dirty, or possessed and spouting wicked incantations. Vanessa shows strength in weakness yet shakes down the men around her, recognizing their similar complications even though the audience hasn't figured out what's behind her poise. Over the course of Penny Dreadful, Vanessa goes from a pious and humble beauty to hospital horrors, creepy crawlies, and back again as she struggles between religious beliefs and increasingly nasty evils. Miss Ives is at times the lady, a child, or evil with slightly scandalous hints to her latent naughty – no gloves at a posh Victorian party and such a saucy kinship to Dorian Gray. What is she to Sir Malcolm? What is the source behind her psychic and possessive powers? Green is simply great in “Seance” and “Closer than Sisters” – award worthy in fact. Vanessa is a strong woman facing death daily whilst hiding a hidden internal battle yet remains put together as best she can. Her convalescence is anything but when she must live with the violence and death she has caused. This is a wonderful original character anchoring Penny Dreadful, and Vanessa Ives fits right in with the familiar literary boys.

Then again, when Timothy Dalton's (The Living Daylight) Sir Malcolm Murray says don't be amazed by what you see and don't hesitate, we don't! The classy waistcoat, top hats, and cane add prominence while the gray in his beard adds gruff to his elder gentleman appeal. This African adventurer has been aged by his shady experiences; he's a pissed off dad and has the means to do something about getting his daughter back but he hasn't been a perfect parent by any means. Sir Malcolm's tug and pull with Vanessa is scene chewing excellence – they've both gained a bizarre new family with this dreadful team. Sir Malcolm navigates the Gentleman's club bright and fancy as swiftly as he handles the down low and dirty. His power and wealth have a long reach, and Sir Malcolm is able to follow inside the police investigations whilst also keeping his own family secrets behind closed doors. Be it arrogance, negligence, or dark forces, he's running out of people close to him to lose, and this increasingly high price is taking its toll. Fatherly love clouds Sir Malcolm's judgment, he sees some of his son in the young Victor, and tries to be better man to this motley band than he was to his own family. However, he's also uses or protects them as necessary in this quest to save his daughter. Sir Malcolm thinks he is above the darkness about him and believes he will do what has to be done. Unfortunately, he is sorely mistaken and must learn to face his regrets, familial mistakes, and grief.

He's pretentious about his research and the possibility of a greater science, but Harry Treadaway (Honeymoon) has some wild disciplines and bloody medicine to contribute as Victor Frankenstein. He rebuffs the notion that he is just a man with a knife and isn't afraid to call these shocking circumstances as he sees them despite his glassy stare and small stature compared to paternal steady hand Sir Malcolm or would be big brother Ethan Chandler. Treadaway delivers some wonderfully intelligent wit and ambitious dialogue – Victor wins his battles with a dance of words but also knows when to be silent or in awe of his creations. His work is a mix of genius and barbaric butchery, yet there is a poetic, touching, and human sensitivity amid Frankenstein's snap, crackle, and pop laboratory. Victor remains gentle in his power of giving life and death – but he isn't exactly able to control such corrupting opportunities or his so-called children. Indeed his maternal aspects are stunted and cut short, for Victor is so desperately interested in trying to cheat death that he's missing out on life. The doctor lives through literature, he's sickly and bloodshot, and unprepared when his creation becomes painfully superior. Naturally, “Dr. F.” looses whatever innocence he may have had along the way, leaving reluctance for complete compliance and monstrous orchestration.

Penny Dreadful unfortunately missteps again in the handling of Josh Harnett's gun for hire Ethan Chandler. His secret is pretty apparent to start and obvious to the audience in “Resurrection” and “Demimonde” yet his plot is played as though it were some major surprise kicker for the finale. Instead of underestimating the audience, the focus should have been upfront so the viewers could be further inside his may or may not know pain. Thankfully, there's a built in American reason for Chandler's kinky, cowboy veneer, and without the need for the usual trite Yank going faux Brit, Hartnett becomes surprisingly impressive for the somber and serious moments. Granted, there is a part of you that can't stop thinking of the woe that was Pearl Harbor or “It's hottie of the 90s Josh Hartnett all grown up!” However, Ethan knows his weapons and fearlessly goes after the vampy monsters. He has a would be sibling rivalry with Victor yet provides a wise sounding board to Sir Malcolm when needed and holds fast to a tender sentiment with the ladies. Chandler is running from a lot more than an oppressive father back home, and the bluffing banter with Vanessa on his shadowed possibilities is more interesting than the inevitable love with Brona. Much of Ethan's relationship with Brona feels unpolished or shoehorned in as set up for the tug and pull plots in Season Two – which would have been a real pity had there been no next year. Fortunately, Hartnett's “and” billing is fitting, for Ethan adds a relatable American tell it like it is wit and dark humor matching Penny Dreadful's twisted cynicism.

Understandably, Reeve Carney (The Tempest) as Dorian Gray is played up to be depraved and assy, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. It's tough to enjoy the extremes Dorian takes, and for the most part, it's all too pretentious to care. His chemistry with Vanessa is also too smarmy and not on par with the other characters– Carney feels inferior to Green and she carries their scenes. Dorian is styled as a modern pretty boy – his bathroom is absurdly decadent, the one excessive, intruding set piece here – and he seems hammy and out of place. Dorian sorely miscalculates Vanessa, uses Ethan, and ultimately, his superfluous, slutty twists don't do much for the main plot. Likewise, it's obvious who Billie Piper (Doctor Who) will be in Season Two as the original but dead end Brona Croft. Her entire plot is not as sympathetic as it should be thanks to a pitiful accent and redundant support driving Ethan to places he was already headed. I like Piper, but she feels wrong for the part, and Brona's inevitable should have been paired down to its late season essentials. Rory Kinnear (Othello) as the creature Caliban is also slightly over the top and obnoxious with a pissy entry that the audience won't like. He can't get over his sad start, and Caliban goes overboard in complaining about the perceived sins of his father when it's his own crimes and monstrous actions making him just as villainous. With his smarts and superior attitude he should know better. Caliban learns of hatred and mercy but chooses the former – his own adolescent, emo behavior and violence mars the would be theatre kindness he receives. He isn't fun to watch, and a late introduction taking up most of the third episode takes away from the other more interesting players we have already met.

Indeed, the alphabetical credits belie the importance of the aforementioned trio – they don't appear in all the episodes and provide uneven aggravation or fodder for the main stars, again all in future storytelling hopes not needed in the tale at hand. I'd much rather have had the wasted David Warner (Titanic) as Van Helsing, an all too brief but charming hematologist with wise words and a steady, grandfatherly presence beyond the occult matters. Recurring guest stars such as Alex Price (Father Brown) as Proteus also do much more for Penny Dreadful. His nudity, subtext, and a childlike but sensuous, emotional exploration add a far better bittersweet sense of wonder to the Frankenstein plots. Does the new man composed of previous men belong to those past recollections or new human development? The answers are both touching and upsetting. Likewise, we're immediately curious about Danny Sapani (Trance) and his mysterious manservant Sembene. He's a soft spoken cool cat, a butler who is the keeper of far more secrets and skills than we realize – which comes in pretty handy to Sir Malcolm. Sembene claims he has no story to tell, but there's certainly some excellent sophistication and compassion in how smoothly he can do what Sir Malcolm cannot when it comes to the new, if uneven, twists for Olivia Llewellyn (The Lizzie Borden Chronicles) as Mina Harker. I hope we have more intrigue from Sembene in Year Two, for the subtle seeds have been placed for him alongside the perfectly flamboyant Egyptologist Simon Russell Beale (The Hollow Crown) and the wild Madame Kali Helen McCrory (Peaky Blinders).

Speaking of items I'd love to see, can these Victorian fashions please come back in full force? Penny Dreadful has the period look as it should but the clothes also have an air of modern streamline – no fru fru frilly is getting in the way of the appropriately bloody bodies, gruesome human parts, or harbored ships with their shady below decks and monster works. Cringe worthy institutions show the old errors juxtaposed against photography, emerging technologies, and more rarities of the time, but the unpleasant, red eyed Nosferatu vamps keep Penny Dreadful old school ugly. The seemingly nondescript courtyard and townhouse hide a dramatic staircase, a dungeon below, the possessed upstairs, and a sweet parlor where all the heavy conversations happen. How did wallpaper then look so good when ours can be so tacky? Cartography, old time explorations, antiques, and fine woodwork add realism while seances, tarot cards, and luscious red interiors shape that 19^th century mysticism. Gas lamps, candles, and fire add a period patina as London fog and lamplighters create a near black and white noir scheme; storms, winds, and rain add to the bleak when all is stripped bare. Sound effects or simple tricks of flashing darkness, moving in camera with a character, or cut away shocks do heaps more in building spooky than the more recent in your face horror designs. Small doses of other languages, fancy phrases, and of the time speakeths add to the panache while play within a play under the stage theatre spectacles layer the observations. The angry, frenetic violin theme music establishes the blue, macabre symbolism during the opening credits, and the viewer is more than ready to settle in with the snakes, spiders, bloody tea cups, and all that is afoot on Penny Dreadful.

Currently, Penny Dreadful can be seen via Showtime streaming options, Amazon, DVD and blu-ray releases, or in on air marathons as Season Two looms. Unfortunately, the on Demand and Xfinity interface can be quite cumbersome and nineties laden with sound issues and playback trouble. Episodes also expire or have varying dates, and it doesn't make much sense to have Year One unavailable to subscribers when the Second series is imminent. These viewing technicalities, however, are but a quibble when considering how Penny Dreadful proves what can be done when a network gives a paranormal drama the care and attention the production needs to match its literary weight and saucy opportunity. I loved NBC's Dracula, but the Big Three American network didn't have the inclination or know how to support the series. Universal probably also misfired with its Dracula Untold, leaving its new monster mash up franchise off to a shaky start, but this, this, this is how Tim Burton's Dark Shadows movie should have been done. Penny Dreadful is pulpy but witty, and any bemusements or camp don't interfere with the frightful mood and macabre atmosphere. Their are First Year growing pains, but the series goes where it wants to go and shows all its saucy or gory without dumbing the style, players, or plot down to the bottom denominator. Instead of lowering the bar, Penny Dreadful raises the measure for gothic horror adaptations with lavish looks, intriguing characters, and sophisticated storytelling.

Wallander: Series 2

Wallander Season 2 Continues the Quality

By Kristin Battestella

After a fine first season for Wallander, this second trio of British episodes from 2010 continues to adapt the Swedish Henning Mankell novels into gritty detective drama.

Year Two kicks off with “Faceless Killers” and the dual murder of a rural elderly couple, eerie heavy breathing, bleak isolation at the crime scene, dim lighting, and dim chances of survival. Why this couple? The age of the victim makes a senseless crime even more difficult to accept – not to mention the possibilities of prejudice or racism as motivation for the attack. The sad, symbolic white horse is a familiar trope, but it creates an extra layer of lonely, bittersweet, and free against the secrets, revelations, finances, and mistresses unraveled in this investigation. Translation troubles, press leaks, and phone threats interfere with the case and up the ante for Wallander. Whether it is a life taken by wrong means, natural causes, or erroneous retaliations, this is an intriguing look at ageism and new family dynamics – touchy, timely topics still relevant despite the five year date on these episodes. Wallander has a bit more action here as well, with some truck chases and shootouts, yet the one on one intimate and personal reflection remain as the 90 minutes mount. Does one project his own anxieties onto the investigation, jump the trigger, misinterpret the case, and influence secondary crimes? When mistakes are made as the violence escalates, who’s to blame, the cops or the criminals? Wallander provides no easy answers, but offers plenty of a self-doubt and drama.

Next, Wallander tackles spiritual elements and a sense of reflection in “The Man Who Smiled.” Opening prayers, rosaries, and crosses on the wall lead to personal loss for our titular copper after a friend asks him to investigate a seemingly simple car accident. Time moves quickly here, but consequences from the previous episode create a jaded mood – the electric is turned off, mail is piling up at home, and quiet, dark, pensive scenes let the brooding simmer. On the job trauma and the awkwardness in returning to the squad room bring change to the inter office dynamics as investigators argue amongst themselves. Things seemed to be a-okay without Wallander and his unstable inability to cope, imagine that! Wallander skips some of the unnecessary details or by the book steps –Kurt never says when he is officially back to work and there are probably technicalities about taking up arms again. The crimes may not be as severe this outing as well and big topics such as white savior African causes, corrupt foundations, and black market trade have varying heavy moments here. However, the hesitancy of wearing a side arm and the questioning of when a case isn’t personal add excellent humanity. What does the gun have to do with the mental solving of a case? Must police be totally on form and always at the ready? Is there still room for internal inspection and examination when a case doesn’t get to you or when the crime doesn’t touch your soul? Red tape and technicalities become pretty irrelevant when criminals are choosing who lives and dies and measuring the scale of right and wrong by the body count.

“The Fifth Woman” begins with a somewhat mundane murder, but Wallander excels at having such routine death, gruesome crows, abuses, and torture as the catalyst for an assessment of the living. More family heavy throws a loop as a seemingly simplistic case escalates towards more tragedy. When does the body of a person become a corpse? For some numbed by dealing with death daily, a dead body is always just a body – but what of those who grieve too much or never mourn at all? Some scenes here are so still they look almost like freeze frames portraits. The detectives tell the bereaved that they understand the difficulty of one’s loss, but they can’t quite accept their own cynical inability to cope. Rifts and familial relationships help Wallander in discovering oneself, but often the realizations come too late. The show’s taut design belies the falling apart nature of its eponymous detective and the seemingly random series of events – serial killers and international shenanigans galore yet Wallander is taking justice into his own hands. It’s okay to kill those who deserve to die, right? Honestly, I was shouting at the television during this finale!

Now that he’s diabetic and has had a vacation between Series 1 and 2, Wallander is a little more sensitive with witnesses – but not by much! Kurt had a pleasant family trip last hurrah, but dealing with his father’s illness is anything but healing for him. He’s still wearing his wedding ring yet allows the racial aspects of a case to influence his personal views about his daughter’s new relationship. However, when Wallander says he’s interested in the truth, not what’s the proper or politically correct thing to do, we believe him. Of course, that doesn’t mean he can handle his family, do what is medically necessary, or accept help during an investigation much less give up on a case if he is personally targeted or in over his head.  At times, the viewer has to wonder how Wallander is still a detective! Aged friends and acquaintances in worse circumstances remember him in younger and happier times, and everyone except him knows he can’t sustain this burning it at both ends lifestyle. Kurt doesn’t notice how death shadows him unless he’s on a case – to him a piece is missing if there is no crusade. Whether he has a badge or not, Wallander admits mistakes are made, but may absolution yet be found? Kenneth Branagh again exemplifies this frazzled state of mind with stuttering and a drunken, ill look. The physical tolls of the job are made visual as the tears and breakdowns mount. But hey, Kurt finally takes a shower this season!  

Well, well, Tom Hiddleston’s sophomore inspector Magnus Martinsson hasn’t grown up much since we last saw Wallander either. He jumps to an easy conclusion and blunders the case yet again in what feels like a character reset after some positive strides to end Season 1. Magnus is wearing more button down shirts and sport coats – he looks like a detective instead of tech support and gets himself together away from Kurt. However, if he hasn’t advanced in the squad room by now, he’ll probably always be the ho hum cop answering phones, doing paperwork, and playing secretary. Fortunately, Magnus again provides much needed moments of humor, rolling his eyes at Wallander’s personal crap and sentimental interference. He may complain at some of his menial investigative chores or grow frustrated when others succeed over him, but Magnus doesn’t let a case get to him, which is something Kurt should learn. Wallander does admit that he trusts Magnus, which ultimately says a lot – whether or not they make mistakes, the two are a lot alike and work well together. Hiddleston looks great thanks to the leftover bulk up from his Thor auditions with Branagh, but I swear, not only must he have kept some of Magnus’ clothes, but I also think he might still wear them. And my goodness that hair enters the room before he does! Richard McCabe (The Duchess) as Sven Nyberg likewise knows how to bounce with Wallander, providing important analysis or ballistics information. Though Nyberg is solid crime scene support for Wallander when we do see him, he unfortunately seems to be off screen and referred to more than he’s seen and sometimes feels like a composite wunderkind catch all – he handles medical examinations and forensics, too!

Sarah Smart as Anne-Britt Hoglund is also on form, unafraid to go searching for the information needed on Wallander. She’s strong in the office but sensitive to life beyond the case, and has even had the rest of the Ystad crew over for dinner. Anne-Britt continues to prove a balance between work and life is possible – she gets home on time and puts her kids to bed. Sadie Shimmin toes the line, too, reining in Wallander as boss Lisa Holgersson. She wants more people on the case and chews Kurt out for his behavior but often gives his tenacity the benefit of the doubt. These ladies look and act realistically – they are dressed in appropriate work attire and don’t wear badass tight leather or sassy badges on their hips. Again, Wallander is obviously not about the secondary cast, but it might have been nice to go home with the rest of the squad in comparison to Kurt’s topsy-turvy. His daughter Jeany Spark is grown up with a new man in her life. It’s not easy for Wallander to accept and his opinion is not the one she wants to hear. Guest star Vincent Regan (300, Troy) also creates an antagonistic yet bittersweet ex-cop equivalent for Wallander, but dad David Warner again delivers a wonderfully tender performance. He’s pitifully ill, clinging to his art and dignity while losing his sanity. It’s upsetting for a son to see the source so broken, but the realistic, difficult pleas and loss of faculties don’t stop him from seeing life more clearly than Kurt can.

The bleak palette, bitter landscapes, windy desolate, and an ominous nighttime carnival give Wallander some edge to match the crimes and pathos, and a crisp mood accented with animals and the outdoors creates a natural feeling amid these fine cinematic values. Older cars, dated phones, non-digital finger printing, and a general lack of technology or technology not being critical to the case is also very pleasing to see and leaves the resolution up to one man’s deduction instead of gadgetry. Granted, there are some unrealistic investigational aspects in Wallander – paperwork, legal process, and consequences for police shootings go unresolved unless it is convenient to the plot at hand. Some audiences may also be bothered by the anglicized update of the Scandinavian trimmings, but I like when we can still see the Swedish writing and sources onscreen. Besides, we’ve been doing The Three Musketeers in RP since the thirties, so British retention in the spirit of the original is nothing new. I’ve quibbled previously about Wallander not being a more traditionally shaped regular serial, but the telemovie format allows room and depth no longer found on American channels such as A&E, where reality programming has pushed aside award winning cinematic tellings like Hornblower. I also don’t understand why the British programming I want to see is also never found on BBC America, but that’s another essay!

Wallander’s cop work may seem typical, straightforward, or may be too simple for viewers expecting finite forensic analysis or twisting and turning police thrillers. However, great character analysis and performances continue to shine in this second series. In fact, the psychological depth here may even be too highbrow for some audiences used to more action-oriented fare. Fans of the cast or intelligent drama should raise the personal stakes and dig down deep for Round Two of Wallander ASAP.

  

Wallander: Series 1

Wallander Series 1 Surprisingly Quality

By Kristin Battestella

Shakespearean thespian Kenneth Branagh produces and stars in the 2008 British television debut of Wallander, based upon the Swedish novels of the same name from author Henning Mankell. Now, Swedish is truly Greek to me, but despite a solid literary pedigree and prior Swedish television adaptations, this trio of 90-minute episodes packs some contemporary suspense and delightfully bitter detective examinations for English speaking audiences.

The disturbing, fiery suicide to start Episode 1 “Sidetracked” quickly introduces audiences to a melancholy, downtrodden police existence, and Wallander provides a universal realism with bizarre deaths and relatable, depressed, strung out investigators piecing together the serial killer crimes. Although the Swedish setting is not immediately apparent thanks to the British forefront, names and places, blue and yellow flags, and newspaper hints do subtlety suggest Wallander’s Scandinavian roots. Pleasing investigative touches, media interference, and corrupt politicians go hand in hand with squad room dynamics, layers of mystery, and an ever-deepening scandal. Sure, there are the usual cop show tropes or common lines of questioning – “Does he have any enemies?” – however, the flawed, in over their heads detectives tie the abuses, dirty details, and cover ups together in a well done examination accented by artistic elements and fathers and sons analysis. The personal touches and focus on the people and not necessarily the case balance the twisted criminals and well edited, suspenseful killings – we almost don’t blame this killer of killers for taking out the trash thanks to all the gray complexities. Terrified witnesses, surprising clues, and the highest corruption all come together for an intense finale.

Now that we know Wallander’s bleak style, Episode 2 “Firewall” gets right to the bloody crimes, seemingly random stabbings, and young delinquents with attitudes that say something more. Contrasts between the killer mentality, disturbing violence, and innocent pink bedrooms reflect the personal amid the crimes and witnesses, and it seems divorcées and grieving families are no better or worse than our titular copper. Naturally, with a title like “Firewall” one can deduce the technological terrors amid the personal here. Online technology, power outages, security failures, and computer troubles are both a help and hindrance in life or investigation – our reliance on machines assists in the criminal activity or tosses a wrench in the case. Such contemporary technological statements may not be as thematically disturbing as the abuses and violence of the first episode, but the topics are handled better than American detective dramas where a team of heroes has everything resolved in an hour. While it sometimes seems very impractical – how do these people never have backup?! – Wallander’s handful of cops must deal with everything in their jurisdiction. They are under the gun, cases crisscross, and my goodness, bodies mysteriously leave the morgue!  More family parallels and heavy backstory unfold, but Wallander tells the intersecting oddities of life and investigation in an ironic, linear fashion, smartly allowing the catastrophic clockwork to simmer and sneak up upon the viewers.

“One Step Behind” opens with a deadly costume party, and some are handling the situation better than others are. Family may move on but some take the ultimate way out in this third episode and the squad room deals with internal heavies as the cases go on. Cops must trust each other with their lives, but do they really know one another? Wallander takes more personal time here to reflect on the job and state of not so well being with therapy sessions and an investigation of self. Less music, innate silence, and diegetic sounds add emphasis to the emotional parallels, ill health, and regretfully missed clues hidden in plain sight. What if one person thought you were his best friend and you never even noticed because the case was always more important? Seemingly random moments or supposedly separate plots interweave well on Wallander, and no fluff camerawork is needed when mistakes are made and the tale is told like it is. Where stateside shows are 40 minutes with precious little time to mount a case – much less a pause or go over the breaking point – this serious, pensive 90-minute finale does much more than a big shoot ‘em up blowout spectacle. There isn’t a reset button or a chance to do better next time when kids and cops are dying, and the crimes come home in a fitting gunpoint conclusion.

Well, Kenneth Branagh’s (Hamlet, Henry V, Othello, Much Ado About Nothing…) eponymous detective is certainly unkempt and crabby –and he’s only made more unstable by his caseload. This isn’t the robust or lighthearted we have known from Sir Ken but rather a five-o-clock shadow and defeated, ongoing weary. Kurt Wallander has a lot of pain and tears yet he remains lovable and relatable because he’s just trying to keep it together as the ghoulish deaths increase daily. He refuses to realize that it’s okay to be off duty and let your own life take priority. Wallander’s a signature away from divorce but still wears his wedding band, he doesn’t always get along with his daughter or father, and usually spends his free time silently zoning out in his chair. He pesters, nay, berates the bereaved, gets slapped a few times, admits to feeling old, and most likely resents the young spitfires about him. Why wake up when this job is your life? Though it consumes him, Kurt needs a creepy heavy case to solve – it keeps him from his own issues and seemingly preferred torment whilst covering up his mistakes and bang up interrogations. Wallander has tough, desperate choices to make. He won’t open himself up and can’t see anything positive after so much pathos. There’s no time to pussyfoot in the quest for so called justice, but Kurt’s gruff charm and endearing awkwardness with family and peers keep Wallander must see.

Balancing Wallander’s glum is a fine ensemble including Tom Hiddleston (Thor, The Avengers) as the young wannabe hot shot cop Magnus Martinsson. Although he actually spends most of his time as a complaining messenger boy or taking crap from Kurt, Magnus provides some sardonic humor amid the tedious paperwork and easy desk duties. He comes in handy at times but botches his supposed computer expertise and wastes time on useless or ultimately irrelevant tangents. Such elements would seem superfluous, but Magnus makes an interesting secondary father and son parallel for Wallander. He learns the hard way that the cases outside are very different from the safety of his desk. Perhaps the seeming importance or ready for more eagerness is part of the character, but the pre-Marvel Hiddleston also seems underutilized or limited by the role. As Magnus he is literally and figuratively ready and waiting to kick the door down, but bemusing quips and the subtly of his facial expressions accent Wallander well. I must however confess that I don’t care for the crazy curly blonde hair. He looks like a nineties kid playing at cops and robbers, but again, that fits the character, too. Tom Beard (Whitechapel) as Kalle Svedberg likewise provides detective exposition. However, he looks more like a cop and is capable of being at the crime scene reflecting the ebb and pull behind Wallander’s often extreme tactics. A dorky, stereotypical profiler, drunk, broken journalists, and cliché teen hackers also provide Wallander with the straightforward, plot advancing details on a case-by-case basis. Stateside, we perhaps expect longwinded spotlights and episodic focus on such trite cop show elements, but here the medical examiners get in and out of Dodge, no fuss.

Sarah Smart’s (At Home with the Braithwaites) Anne-Britt Hoglund is as close to a partner as Kurt has, but she also keeps it together despite being well aware how deep the investigative rabbit hole goes. Anne-Britt is sensitive and does the quiet things during a case –which may seem the little woman tender formula. However, she also laments how her work adversely affects her home and marriage, doing a lot with only a few scenes or dialogue and providing honestly and a grounding element to Wallander. Of course, Sadie Shimmin (Mr. Selfridge) as squad boss Lisa Holgersson doesn’t want to hear Kurt’s drama yet remains smooth and unflustered whilst also giving him a wide berth and reminding him that there are indeed rules to follow. Daughter Jeany Spark (Da Vinci’s Demons), unfortunately, doesn’t have it easy balancing life and single dad Wallander. In fact, all her troubles in life stem from him, but she remains a pleasing example of the positive Kurt could have at home if he just took a gosh darn moment to pay attention. Likewise, David Warner (Titanic) is simply excellent as Wallander’s aged, ill, and bittersweet artist father. In some ways, I do wish Wallander was a regular, hour long, six or eight episode series that gave more time to this lovely support and the coming and going guest players – say hey it’s Nicholas Hoult (X-Men: Days of Future Past) and shout out to Blake’s 7’s Steven Pacey! And I confess, I did fall for a few character red herrings!

Wallander has seascapes, outdoor filming, and sunshine, but the pretty scenery contrasts the bleak plot and gruesome crime scenes. It’s nice to see a relatively obscure to us Scandinavian location, too, keeping the dynamics fresh instead of the same old bad ass, New York, suave cops winning the day. The cinematic flair, boats, cars, and people on the move add to this rugged sense of chill and northern dreary. The design is non-static but not a busy, herky jerky in your face shock editing dulling the senses. The score adds a bit much to the harsh landscape – it’s heavy and intrusive at times – but this matches Wallander’s melancholy tone. The phones, err “mobiles” as they say, however, are already dated by a decade, along with big computers and now millennial retro fashion and makeup on the ladies. These cops can’t have a warrant instantly emailed to their smart phone, gasp! This is a police department with one crappy guy on a computer instead of an entire IT unit, no wonder our eponymous inspector is so darn frazzled.

I like British detective shows and watch my fair share of them, but Wallander may be for a niche audience here across the pond, filling the void for viewers seeking a well done, entertaining crime drama. Again, I have no Swedish frame of reference with the books or prior Scandinavian television productions, but this Wallander is A-okay stuff thanks to a gritty focus on character, performances, and the toll of the crime – not the action and gore. Viewers searching for an intelligent, sophisticated investigation need look no further than this Wallander debut.