The Höxenhaven effect

As I've briefly mentioned before, I've been catching up - belatedly - with one of those hit Scandinavian TV series which have found an audience outside Scandinavia: the Danish political drama Borgen (sometimes translated as The Fortress - the title refers to Christiansborg, where the Danish government works). I've been holding back from testing the said Scandinavian TV series, especially the crime ones, as I've suspected them of being too gloomy for my taste. The reason I hesitated over Borgen was its theme: it depicts a female prime minister facing the challenges of her office. Well, we've seen all that before, haven't we? When a strong male political figure - or, for that matter, business leader - takes centre stage, TV dramas and films focus on the politics or business respectively, whereas when it's a woman, there must needs be scene after scene showing how her tough job takes its toll on her family life. I'm pretty sick of it. How many times do we see, for instance, a male fictional President of the USA being told by his wife and kids that he is "never at home"? Not that often: they know what to expect from the leader of the free world. Why should it be so different for a woman?

Borgen does enter more into its protagonists' personal lives than for instance The West Wing, a series which it resembles in some ways, but it's not as predictable as I feared. Birgitte Nyborg (Sidse Babett Knudsen), the main character of the series, starts out as the head of a slightly left-of-centre party which is respectable but nowhere near as big as the main parties to left and right. She's not quite a nobody, but close enough. Then a series of events conspire to discredit the leaders of the two largest parties, and it falls to Birgitte - whose frank, honest image has won the voters' hearts - to form Denmark's new government, with herself at its head. The wheeling and dealing of the first episodes is almost the best part of the two series I've watched so far (there is a third which I haven't got hold of yet), but the rest is thrilling too. Though you may not always agree with Birgitte Nyborg's policies (well, I didn't, anyway), she is such a strong character, likeable even in her failings, and with a statesmanlike capacity for listening and, if need be, changing her mind, that you root for her all the way - or nearly. Like Josiah Bartlet in The West Wing, Birgitte Nyborg is the kind of politician you dream of leading your country: true to her ideals, but tough-minded and no fool.

Yes, there are family issues, but they mostly concern Birgitte's relationship with her husband Philip. There are child-related storylines, true, but the children are for the most part stoic and seem to understand the demands of premiership better than Philip does. He's supportive at first but becomes increasingly fed up, especially when his own working life is affected. Even though he has a case, and it's not solely the question of the old "you're never at home" gripe, the viewer's sympathies remain firmly with Birgitte. For pity's sake, she's the prime minister. Her man should just accept it and shape up (and maybe shave off that woeful-looking beard).

What I didn't quite expect from a Scandinavian series were any villain sightings to speak of. Here, I have been unfairly prejudiced against the (almost) local produce. For lo and behold: I think Borgen may contain the Villain of the Year.

Let's be clear: I do not refer to the head villain of the series, Michael Laugesen, who gets an outing in almost every episode. Alas, he is consistently appalling, though played with skin-crawling perfection by Peter Mygind. Laugesen starts as the leader of the Labour Party (all party names in Borgen are made up: in Denmark, the Labour Party equivalent is really called the Social Democrats), and then goes on to become the chief editor of a tabloid. Here we get the unreconstructed macho, the career politician who fancies himself and the sleazy tabloid editor combined in one character, and it's not a pretty sight. Is this portrayal fair on any of these categories? Not really, but I was too busy wanting to smash Laugesen's head against a wall to care.

No, the villain gem is to be found among the bit-players - and it often is the bit-players who shine in this series. Step forward, devious leading Labour politician Troels Höxenhaven (Lars Brygmann), nicknamed "Höx". I was so caught up in willing Birgitte to power at the start of the series that the charms of Höx only dawned on me gradually. At first, I just had time to think "hm, the scrawny one's a bit of all right" and to feel a pleasant thrill when Höx swooped down on Laugesen's shoulders in a hypocritical gesture of friendship and support (having, as it comes clear afterwards, just delivered him up to the wolves). But by the time he (as Minister of Justice) jokingly quoted Richard Nixon when threatened with a bugging scandal, I was pretty much smitten, and when Laugesen published a book claiming - among other tittle-tattle - that Höx had homosexual leanings, I thought I knew exactly how that rumour started: "Did you know that odd Swedish woman fancies him rotten? He must be gay."

OK, so it turns out to be not entirely untrue. Big deal. Höx is at least married, which practically makes him John Wayne compared to the other fictional crushes I've had over the past two years or so. Now I come to think of it, not many of my straight villain crushes would - in some strange, parallel fictional universe - give me the time of day either. It's hard, a villain-lover's lot.

The main problem with Höx is that he doesn't stay the course. He's only in seven of the twenty episodes which constitute series one and two, and he won't be in series three at all. Moreover, his greatest moments of triumph (including the effect on the voters mentioned in the title: no, it's not just me!) occur when we, the audience, know that the seeds of his Castlereagh-like downfall have already been sown. Nevertheless: the way he secretly smirks after having just assured Birgitte that he's really sorry about the way his party leader's been behaving; the way he effortlessly manipulates the media; the way he trips up anyone standing between him and power, even giving Birgitte a run for her money; they can't take that away from me.

The Musketeers - good, honest post-gym entertainment

On Mondays, I miss The Musketeers, which was finally aired in Sweden recently by one of our commercial channels (TV 4, Sweden's answer to ITV). Mondays is when I go to a gym session which - though on the "basic" level - is quite exhausting enough, thank you. The first working day of the week, followed by exercise: after that, all I want to do after wolfing down some supper is watch something on TV which is a) not too taxing on the brain b) not too demanding emotionally c) no more than an hour long, preferably less (it's depressing to have to go straight to bed after you've watched TV) and, of course, finally d) good fun. Currently I'm watching the Danish series Borgen, which is both brainy and engaging. But precisely for these reasons, it's not ideal post-gym viewing. Now, The Musketeers, on the other hand, fulfilled all the criterias above with ease.

I could guess by the English reviews that the series wouldn't be very faithful either to history or to Dumas, and I was right: it isn't. On the other hand, it's sometimes a little more ambitious than one would have expected. Some episodes, including the first one, were uncomplicated adventure yarns which could easily be viewed and appreciated by fans of, say, Merlin. Other episodes, though, aimed higher and were more grown-up. I preferred those containing high, political intrigue where both the heroic Treville and the devious Richelieu found themselves essentially on the same side, trying to preserve the interests of France. The Cardinal, however, was prepared to go much further and be much more ruthless in his pursuit of this aim. In the best moments of the series, the conflicts between the musketeers and the Cardinal were less good vs bad and more idealism vs cynicism. As a viewer, you generally thought Richelieu went too far, but you saw his point - and there lies the recipe (or one of them, at least) for succesful villainy.

The series made two wise decisions regarding Richelieu. One, they cast the always excellent Peter Capaldi as the Cardinal. Surely, he was born to play clever villains - and I say that who haven't even watched In the Thick of It. He will make a very intriguing Doctor (not a villain, but clever and with a dark side) in the next Doctor Who series. Two, the series depicted Richelieu not as someone who merely wants power for himself, but as someone who really cares for the future of France and of the monarchy. In the latest Three Musketeers film, by contrast, Richelieu was plotting to overthrow the king and take absolute power himself, which is ridiculous and completely unhistorical. What would be his title as supreme ruler? Lord Protector? President of the Free World? As a cardinal, he would naturally have no legitimate heirs, so how would the succession be managed? By voting - in 17th-century France? Unthinkable. No, Richelieu was always a loyal servant to the crown: even if he liked to boss His Majesty around, he had no intention of taking his place. By reflecting this, the series gives at least one nod to historical reality. The fictional Richelieu is still a far cry from the real Richelieu, of course, but you can put up with an extra bit of musketeers vs Red Guard silliness from a show that takes its villain seriously.

The musketeers themselves are likeable enough, and there is a star turn from Tamla Kari as a sweet, plucky Constance. But you're rarely completely cut up if something goes a little awry. It will work itself out later on, and anyway, the Cardinal - and an admirable, if strangely un-blonde, Milady in the shape of Maimie McCoy - are still worth ten Arthoses, Porthoses and Aramises. Some things never change.