“Case”–Hot or Cold?

Case Netflix Original

Case, Netflix Original

Nordic Noir crime dramas are now being imported and exported at an ever-increasingly rapid rate. Case, a Netflix Original, premiered in Iceland in 2015. In all that sharing of this Nordic noir genre, there has been a great flattening of content and quality with an obvious formula identifying the genre. This is my ninth review of Nordic Noir films and mini-series.  I am so addicted I inhale these grim, bleak, crime thrillers in almost a voyeuristic way. But I tell myself it’s only really dangerous and/or sick if you take action. No worries, but it is like watching a train wreck. Or is this genre an act of subterfuge? Corking our anxiety like acid in a vial?

Case begins in exactly the way we’ve come to expect: a young girl — in this case a teenage ballerina — is found dead in a horrifying scene. A gruff police investigator (with some deficiency in social skills) and her partner (a disgraced lawyer), obsessive and determined, solve the case against great odds from the authorities, those they assume they can trust, and slowly reveal the dark secrets of the entitled class.

In Case a wonderfully dowdy, suitably curmudgeonly, single female detective, Gabriela (Steinunn Ólína Þorsteinsdóttir), tenaciously works on solving the murder like an OCD avenging angel.

A wild drug-and-sex bacchanalia (common for this genre) provides local color as the stark naked blackmailer addresses his interrogator while distractedly pulling on his “man-meat”. (Is this a new first in cinematography?) Add Case to your Nordic noir watch list.

Movies today are sometimes extreme projections of the silver screen of our fears and dreams. And Nordic noir almost monopolizes the fear category (excluding horror, which I avoid). Case is not nearly as tightly woven as Bordertown, Department Q, or The Break to name a few, Nevertheless, the narrative still held my interest. Instead of evocative red herrings to take the viewer off track, Case has a saggy middle of irrelevant scenes that nearly destroys the pacing.   My advice–stick with it past the first two episodes (of nine) and the narrative picks up with a head-spinning series of surprises especially in episodes seven and eight.

“Bordertown”– New Boundaries in Scandinavian Noir

Bordertown Netflix original

Bordertown (Sojornen)

You can escape the big city and its frenetic fierceness, but you can’t escape murder, not even in the hinterland of Finland. That’s the psychologically disturbing theme in Bordertown, Netflix’s latest international acquisition and the latest Scandinavian Noir drama that’s sure to mesmerize audiences.

Bordertown is also a drama about family in which crime disrupts and plagues the family’s attempts at intimacy and communication.

The main character, Detective Kari Sorjonen, decides he needs to leave the horrors of urban crime for a slower pace, moving his wife and teenage daughter to his wife’s hometown bordering St. Petersburg. Looking for balance between family and work, Sorjonen soon finds himself in the midst of a disturbing investigation tangentially linking the brutal murders of teenage girls to his own family.

The brooding, dark environment –like all great Nordic Noir —underscores the underbelly of nasty psychopaths and their heinous crimes. In Bordertown almost all of the horror involves teenage girls–but the main plot which carries emotional weight throughout the series is that Kari Sorjonen just wants to have dinner with his family without being called away to another brutal murder scene. The fact that his daughter is the same age as the victims overwhelms and drives Sorjonen to maniacally solve each crime.

Sorjonen, as a savant with picture-perfect photographic memory, literally constructs memory palaces with masking tape laid out on the floor. Dysfunctional and deeply flawed in many ways (like Sherlock Holmes, Adrian Monk, and the autistic female detective in each of three adaptations of Brön or The Bridge), Sorjonen is a brilliant crime solver.

If you’re looking for a new heart-pounding crime drama series with one crime solved in two or three succeeding episodes (“Doll’s House, Parts 1, 2 and 3; then “Dragonflies”, Parts 1 and 2), then this is a great option. You can binge view until the crime is solved, three hours of viewing max, before moving on to the next murder.

I’ve got six more episodes to go!

Note: Bordertown‘s series premiere in Finland (October 2016) drew a record 1.1 million viewers, which is roughly a fifth of the country’s population.

The Keepers–Another Spotlight

The Keepers review

Sister Cathy Cesnik

In this seven-episode true-crime documentary from Netflix (released May 19 of this year), The Keepers explores the 1969 death of 26-year old Catholic nun and Baltimore schoolteacher Sister Cathy Cesnik and touches on 20-year-old Joyce Malecki’s murder four days later. Both slayings remain unsolved. The cover up that follows has echoes of Spotlight (see my review of January 16, 2016).

Gemma Hoskins and Abbie Schaub, two retired 60-something grandmothers and former students of Sister Cathy’s at Archbishop Keough High School, still feel disturbed by the almost-half-a-century-old cold case. Who savagely beat and then murdered beloved teacher Sister Cathy? Starting a Facebook group in 2014 to reach out to others to share information about Sister Cathy’s murder, these two badass senior citizens–as intrepid and analytical as Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple–uncover a cold case like no other that the Baltimore police or Catholic Church has had to contend with.   Abbie and Gemma create a safe space for people who had been afraid to speak up.  And the role of social media is astounding as a tool for criminal investigation. These two amateur sleuths use the internet brilliantly!

The Keepers, which some viewers may compare to Making a Murderer, spotlights a ring of child sex abuse so savage that the collateral damage– including addiction and suicide– may have affected over one-hundred students at the all-girl Catholic high school. We witness an incredibly raw, harrowing, eye-opening journey that implicates those we are raised to trust most: family, church, and state.

A lot of people were threatened by Sister Cathy, if she were to talk.The Keepers suggests a strong link between the police’s deliberate mishandling of the case and the archdiocese’s intentional cover-up in this devout Catholic community.

Attention is first drawn in 1994 by Jean Hargadon Wehner–who is the first to come forth and reveal the possible perpetrators in Cathy’s murder. She also files a $40 million lawsuit alleging sexual abuse at the hands of the high school chaplain, Father Maskell. She reports that he showed her Sister Cathy’s body in the woods when she was his student– as a warning against speaking out.  “Do you see what happens when you say bad things about people?” She kept her secret for almost thirty years. “I put what happened to me in a box, so I could survive,” Jean explains.

Netflix has masterfully produced an intense whodunit on several levels: 1) We see the community blinded by what is happening, and at times, believing the authorities over their own children; 2) We see how cruel, violent behavior in the name of religion can manipulate the innocent and inexperienced into submission; 3) We see how the lack of sexual education and candor led to rampant manipulation of children; 4) And we see how post-traumatic stress shuts down memory as a self-protective mechanism in order to deal with unhealed wounds.

This powerful exposé spotlights corruption by the Catholic church, the police department, and the court system. At the end we see an outraged Jean Hargadon Wehner scream out, in a raw hoarse cry, — “Those mother fuckers!”

 

Note: As of May 23, the Baltimore City Police Department has created a Facebook page to help solve the murders. Leads and possible witnesses in the investigations continue after the last day of filming. Additional social media sites have become involved (subreddits in particular).