Broadchurch
It’s getting darker for every day here in northern Europe now. Temperatures are still relatively humane and I hope the colorful foliage on our garden’s trees and in Malmö’s parks last for a few more weeks. I’ve been shooting a lot in Slottsparken recently and have a neat little autumn film project in the works.
If you’re a Netflix subscriber like me, mid-autumn means it’s a great time to discover and binge-watch a couple of drama series – as means to sneakily ease yourself into accepting that we’ll all be spending more time indoors than outdoors for the next 5-6 months. A Brittish friend on our street recently recommended Broadchurch and I’m already halfway through the first of three seasons.
The plot isn’t spectacularly original or terribly riveting, the opposite is probably a more appropriate discription. Which is concurrently exactly what makes the show so intriguing. Like many Brittish dramas that unfold somewhere in the Brittish countryside, or, in this case along the southeast coast, near Dorset, it’s the amalgamation of mundanity coupled with the privilege of unbridled voyeurism that pulls you in to the town of Broadchurch and the well-played characters seemingly ordinary lives. Like a good Agatha Christie novel or film, the show spends a generous amount of time establishing the main characters and then allows for ample time so they can be self-implicated suspects in the ongoing murder case
Fans of the The Night Manager and The Crown will enjoy yet another wonderful performance by Olivia Colman in Broadchurch as tough but warm-hearted detective Ellie Miller. The image above is from a small lighthouse not far from where we live.