Fuck Yeah! BBC Wallander!

For Magnus Monday

I tried to crochet a little Magnus and his glorious lion’s mane hair.

“You’ve got so many questions, haven’t you, rattling around inside your head? Look, you killed a man recently, didn’t you? A racist killer, killed in self defense, in the line of duty. A perfectly reasonable course of action. Then you ran away, into the wilderness for six months—sweating, shaking. And it wouldn’t leave you, would it? And all the time you had this one big question nagging away at you: Does your pain make you a good man or a weak man?”

Wallander:  light schemes and landscapes appreciation post, part 5

“Welcome to Sweden!

We don’t have much crime, but when we do, it’s the absolute sickest shit you could possibly imagine.

Our landscapes are bleak, our beaches are rocky, our sky is always a vaguely yellowish grey, and our detectives are every bit as jolly as a bag of drowned kittens.

The richest, most expressive element of the BBC detective series Wallander might be the Scandinavian-modern style sets, which were designed by Anders Olin.  They set the scene with precision, and offer deep sensual pleasure.  The centerpiece is the police station in Ystad, the small city in southern Sweden where the drama unfolds, which was constructed in its entirety in a studio there.  The floor where the homicide detectives work is spacious, with low ceilings and limited views to the outside.  The large open central space, where they gather, is lined with wood planks and furnished with gently-worn, generic (that is, non-iconic) pieces of Scandinavian modern furniture.  Lit dimly, and propped with flurries of paper, stuffed birds, rusting metal desk lamps, and dying potted plants, the room evokes the strangeness and sadness of the work the detectives carry out, and that seeps into their personal lives.

The Wallander sets are a terrific contrast to the Mad Men sets, which fetishize mid-century modern design by recreating pristine, museum-like environments like Rogers Sterling’s office and Don Draper’s apartment.  In those sets every object is gleaming, unused, and bathed in brilliant white light.  The dark hardwood walls, bare concrete floor, and austere tables and chairs that furnish the Wallander police station suggest that it has been around for a while, and that the detectives who work here have been around for a while too.  Everything inside it has a lyrical battered feeling.  While open office spaces have become a design cliche, particularly for companies that want to project a socially progressive image, the set for Wallander is not about that at all.  These detectives work to unearth secrets, purposefully and painfully.  The common room, where everyone’s mutterings and moods spill over into everyone else’s, shows us the tumult.