Borgen: The First Tuesday in October

"I want a divorce."

So, that's it. No more Borgen on BBC 4 until the Winter, we're told. I suspect it'll be worth the wait, although I certainly hope they don't show it as two consecutive episodes a week next time. That's not a very clever way to show a series where each individual episode requires much, much digesting, and I'm not sure I was the only one put up to just record it until much, much later. I can think of a few things about the last episode which I wish I'd written about last night. I feel like that with every episode. One episode a week, please!

This episode is such a deeply satisfying culmination of the threads, character-based and thematic, which have run right through the season. Birgitte's marriage collapses into selling-out for the cameras, and then into inevitable but cathartic divorce, just as the first anniversary of her premiership looms, alongside a new Parliament and a new year's legislative programme.

It's clear there's no way back from the strain, and the lapses in judgement, suffered by Birgitte. Such is the nature of power. All senior politicians live in a bubble which, in the end, inevitably severs them entirely from reality. And the sheer physical and emotional strain of this most demanding of jobs is so utterly crushing that it seems to approach Stockholm Syndrome at times. Relationships with "civilians" tend not to survive such pressures. Not only Birgitte, but also Bent and the Sir Humphrey figure have given up hope of a functional relationship with their spouse, whatever the "official" situation. All of this feels very, very realistic, and it's interesting to relate it to UK politics.

It's only where both partners exist in this world that there's any hope. It's very notable how, even though Katrine ends the episode disgusted with Kasper, things between them end on a note that's rather on the hopeful side of individual. Neither of them could possibly maintain a relationship with a "civilian"- what choice do they have? I suppose that's a kind of Stockholm Syndrome, too, but it isn't really anywhere near that bleak. They may fight, a lot, but they understand each other perfectly and what they have between them is, for all its faults, real.

The early mention that "Cabinet seats cost popularity" certainly raised at least one eyebrow from me, being an accurate description of what the inevitable compromises of power have done to Lib Dem support here in the UK, and Nick Clegg is nowhere near as pretty as Birgitte Nyborg. The Labour plotting against Bent, Birgitte's father figure and her only true friend in politics, is devastating for her at a time like this but also feels very real.

The episode is framed around Kasper's speech, and his struggle with it, culminating in Birgitte's triumphant delivery which, of course, confirms that she can still be a good Prime Minister in spite of her inevitable problems. Kasper actually shows himself to be a bloody good scriptwriter; his comments on Kennedy's inauguration speech, and the need for pathos and ethos as well as logos (See? I just spontaneously remembered stuff from a module in Rhetoric I took at uni, a disturbingly long time ago…!), show how well he understands the values of the political principles he lacks. Of course, now that we know his history it's fascinating to speculate on why he's like this. Also interesting is how he casually uses the lovely but soon-to-be-sacked Sanne for his own gratification at a time when he seems to be getting on fine with Katrine, dumping her so very casually.

Katrine, on the other hand, is very, very principled, but how much of this is really ambition? I notice that Kasper seems to hint at this when he points out that she's not yet thirty but wants to dictate the news policy of a major channel. I suspect she'll follow Hanne Holm into newspapers.

In one sense things are wrapped up. In another, we're right in the middle of things. Politics is like that.

Borgen: Divide and Rule

"Who'll be Prime Minister while you do all our jobs?"

Well, we might as well start by talking about that moment. But, for the record, this was a bloody brilliant bit of drama, just one slightly dodgy Scottish accent away from perfection, and I think we can forgive that in a programme from Denmark.

Blimey. I know I ended last episode's review by observing that Philip asserting himself by taking the job was ultimately just storing up conflict for the future, but I didn't expect it to happen so soon or so literally. Philip's been a sympathetic character so far in spite of his faults, and someone we can identify with. But in making him hit his wife the writers have decided to place him beyond the pale. Whatever his motives- and they are, of course, genuine and even understandable- there's no possible way that him doing this can ever be defended. The moment hits the viewer like a bomb. It's great drama, especially as it feels "earned" by a long set-up, but even so I'm a bit uneasy by what it says about masculinity.

The episode title is, yet again, really rather clever. This episode sees people divided from each other- Birgitte from Philip and Katrine from her boss, Torsten, both of them partly because of a stubborn refusal to delegate- a rather obvious big theme- but also lots of conflict about power- both of those same examples, again- but also within Cabinet and between government and media.

With all that going on, the political issue this episode- which fighter jet should be bought by the Danish air force- is fairly ho-hum, thus allowing us to focus on these kinds of power relationships. Certainly, it's become very clear that Birgitte's personal life is impinging on her premiership. She's devastated by the total breakdown in her marriage, much as she tries to show it. She's still capable of being magnificent (her response to Katrine's naughty question at the end is a fairly clear parallel to her similar act of off-message genius in the debate before the election), but her inability to delegate is a worrying sign. She's overreacting to the Hox's actions last episode, and given her domestic circumstances she's possibly headed for a nervous breakdown. The way she humiliates herself by barging into Freja's flat is a very worrying sign. Her open government initiative is certainly going to stir up a hornet's nest, too. I certainly wouldn't want her job.

Katrine's problem of being unable to delegate is superficially similar but there's a big difference; she's not the boss. She spends the whole episode defying Torsten and getting away with it because she's successful, but when she finally oversteps the line there are consequences. Her relationship with Kasper is getting interesting too. They're close again, but he still won't discuss his demons with her, except for the one shocking outburst. This is building up to something. Everything's building up to something. And the BBC 4 announcer referred to the last episode as a "season finale" over the closing titles. Should I be excited?

Borgen: The Silly Season

"Don't you wash your hands?"

"It doesn't make the smell go away."

This is an extraordinary episode. It makes us completely reinterpret so much of what we've seen in earlier episodes. Suddenly it makes sense that Kasper is the way he is, cold, repressed, horribly damaged and in denial about his past.

After my comments about last episode, thinking I had the format of Borgen sorted as an issue-of-the-week political drama with added character arcs, this episode goes and breaks that template, if there was one, completely. It's the Summer. Parliament isn't sitting and there's no news, only gossip. It is, to use a very British phrase, the Silly Season. (I'd be interested to know whether that was a direct translation- I suspect not.) So that means we can drop the issues of the week (Laugesen's memoirs aren't really that) and really focus on character. Even the opening quote is not from Machiavelli or Lenin but James Joyce, of all people, and is about the past coming back to bite you. Lots of threads come to a head here.

Incidentally, isn't Laugesen odious? He's like a cross between Tony Blair and Kelvin McKenzie. Urrrgh.

Kasper's past might not be all that unexpected- I was expecting child abuse as soon as we got the first flashback- but that doesn't make the actual revelation and less huge. These flashbacks are quietly devastating. And Pilou Asbæk is an extraordinary actor- so many scenes are made by his facial acting. In fact, this gives us a wonderful piece of misdirection as he's apparently nervous just before his interview. Of course, he nails it, but looks no less uncomfortable. It's really been his father, not Laugesen's revelations, that have been bothering him.

The fact that he went so far as to change his first name speaks volumes, and his stilted relationship with his mother (does she know?) is so awkward to watch. His refusal to take any of his father's shirts becomes very understandable once you've seen the flashback, and his insistence on a minimal funeral and an unmarked grave is horribly revealing of his desire to bury these feelings away and forget about them.

Ironically, all this is what brings him and Katrine together. Even her disgust at how he came across the receipts that incriminated Hesselboe is leavened by the fact that for once he's being honest. And she has real feelings for him. ("If you just told me the truth, I'd do anything for you." I knew it was her entering the room at the end, despite the blurred focus, but the scene is so deeply cathartic and, yes, lovely. What happens between them now?

Birgitte and Philip's storyline is less dramatic and, given that it could hardly compete with child abuse, less upsetting, but it's quietly upsetting to see their relationship continue to deteriorate. Philip's a nice guy, but he's emasculated, and doesn't even want sex. Society is fine with a woman being Prime Minister (although of course things are still fine from equal; let's not kid ourselves), but the role of her "consort" is awkward, given the way gender roles work culturally. Philip is adopting a traditionally feminine role, and is therefore emasculated. He's as much a victim of cultural misogyny as his wife. And although he may temporarily solve things at the end by asserting his masculinity, this can only be storing up conflict for the future...

Borgen: See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

"I consider you a dead man in my government now."

In the Grauniad's G2 supplement this week there was a guest column from someone connected with The Thick of It, in which he described Borgen as "The Thick of It without the laughs". I'd say it was closer to Yes, Minister without the laughs but the comparison stands. There's a very similar feel, and perhaps the format which is common to all three shows is a little more problematic when it comes to a straight drama like Borgen.

There are continuing plot threads, yes, but these are heavily focused on character- little things like the fact that Hoxenhaven is a member of a political dynasty, desperate to attain the political success that his family background expects in spite of the fact he's a rather weak man. But the "story of the week" format is a bit of a problem for a series that defines itself by realism. Last week the only political issue that existed was the state visit. This time there seem to be no other political issues around to distract us from the illicit bugging of the Solidarity party. A satirical comedy can get away with this sort of thing as we expect a degree of caricature. Here, it's a little awkward.

On the other hand, it's also probably necessary that things are this way for the individual episodes to have any coherence. No drama based on the world of politics could avoid doing things this way, and Borgen is bloody brilliant. Still, there's a certain awkwardness.

Anyway… this week we have a meditation on the conflict between friendship and power in which Birgitte is forced, through political expediency, to side with a weak, lacklustre and petulant Justice Minister (Hox) against her estranged left-wing friend (Anne-Marie Lindenkrone). Hox may be weak and, when he begs to keep his job, pathetic, but as an insider he knows how to play the game and the value of a well-timed leak. Such are the perks of an upbringing within a family used to power. Lindenkrone has none of these advantages, and pays a harsh price.

There's a nice political balancing act in how the two sides are presented, too. Hox is heard to use a lot of disturbingly authoritarian "War on Terror" style incoherent rhetoric, while Lindenkrone's years-old plan to kidnap the then PM's children is really quite far beyond the pale, whatever the circumstances.

Politics and relationships are awkward, er, bedfellows elsewhere, too. Katrine's idyllic relationship with Benjamin, which has until now been defined pretty much entirely by physical attraction and extremely frequent great sex, suddenly starts to flounder when he admits he doesn't know who the defence minister is. The two of them have nothing in common. This is a fling, nothing more. My money's still on her and Kasper getting back together.

As for Birgitte and Philip, the disintegration of their relationship is becoming ever more painful to watch. The fact that she can even think of accusing him of having an affair means that a line has been crossed. On the other hand… is he? If not, will he?

Borgen: State Visit

“That was before you got all pragmatic.”

This episode gives me the distinct impression that a standard format for Borgen is beginning to emerge: Birgitte spends the episode dealing with an ethical dilemma before finally untying the Gordian knot after much agonising. Her relationship with Philip and her children continues to deteriorate. Meanwhile, we see both Katrine and Kaspar doing their jobs (very well) and living their personal lives (not so well), with a general will-they-won’t they thing lurking in the background. That isn’t what happens every episode, but it seems to be the basic template. Or not. The rest of the series will probably prove me wrong.

The opening quote is from Mao, which hints that we will shortly be meeting a rather nasty dictator- President Grobin of the fictional ex-Soviet republic of Turgistan. Grobin is to announce a €1 billion contract for, er, wind turbines, a massive triumph for the government. Trouble is, there also happens to be a rather  prominent, and eloquent, dissident (and poet to boot) in Copenhagen at the same time- Vladimir Bayanov, and Grobin wants him deported before he’ll agree to the deal. It’s a simple yet gripping premise and the resolution, although obvious in hindsight, is satisfying enough, especially as it’s left ambiguous whether Birgitte has really won at all. It reminds me of Vladimir Putin being rather pissed off at us Brits for being home to so many prominent dissidents, apparently unable to get his little KGB brain around such concepts as due process, fair trials and an independent judiciary.

This side of the episode isn’t really the point, though, hence its relative simplicity. The main theme is Birgitte’s deteriorating relationship with Philip, who is feeling increasingly stressed, overworked, neglected and (being essentially a mother and housewife) neglected. For all that this is horribly unfair on Birgitte because of prevailing cultural assumptions about gender roles, that isn’t Philip’s fault. These are two nice, decent people whose marriage seems to be slowly and painfully falling apart. The last scene between them may be rather sweet, but there’s still something stilted about it. The body language between them makes it obvious that they’re becoming less intimate, and that’s bloody good acting.

Oh, and Birgitte’s dad appears, too. He’s mainly there to annoy and further emasculate Philip by usurping his role, but his confession to Birgitte, that he’s been lying about the divorce and it’s made him very unhappy, is ominous. Birgitte may be Prime Minister, but does this mean she has to sacrifice her happiness? Her relationship with her children is obvious, too, especially with her son. There’s an awkwardly large amount of screen time where she’s in shot with her children but ignoring them. Things do not bode well.

One thing that amazed me was how much of this episode takes place in English- all conversations with Grobin, Katrine’s televised interview with Bayanov (which appears not to be subtitled) and even the press conference. Birgitte even speaks English in cut-glass RP and could easily pass for a native speaker, and everyone appears to be fluent. Do all Danes really have such a gift for languages?

Kaspar continues to be very good at his job and spectacularly bad in his relationships with women. Not only does he make yet another horribly misjudged attempt to kiss someone, seemingly a habit of his, but it’s Katrine. And he’s just finished having a drunken brawl with her new boyfriend. It’s no surprise that she makes it clear she doesn’t want to be alone with him again. Still, one has to wonder where this thread could be leading if not to Kaspar’s redemption and eventually to the two of them getting back together. Or is that far too obvious?

Borgen: Men Who Love Women

“Go through my ministers and list who you’ve slept with.”

The title’s a bit clever; it’s simultaneously an indirect reference to the political theme of the episode and a direct reference to the relationships of Katrine and Hanne, and the relationship failures of Kaspar. This is an episode far more focussed on character.

The Machiavelli quotes are back, and this time old Niccolo is talking about the relevant success rates of unarmed versus armed prophets, only for the very first word spoken after the caption appears- “Jesus!”- to nicely deconstruct the very distinction. Subtle and clever.

A simple idea- Birgitte’s determination to force all members of company boards to be 50% female and the varied reactions to it- leads to all sorts of fascinating revelations about attitudes to gender roles. Kaspar has little time for feminists, but is very happy to work, effectively, at implementing feminist policies- it’s all about the game of politics. The minister in question, Henriette Kiltgaard, is subjected to all sorts of vague misogyny in the newsroom, being nicknamed “the clit” and defined only as a former model, by her youth, and by her role as a mother. Torben even agrees to the suggestion that she be interviewed by a man for “balance”. And yet Ulrik is gentle with her and pulls his punches, while Hanne makes it clear that she would have been much tougher. There may be misogyny, even in progressive Denmark, but it’s more complicated than just boys against girls.

Improper corporate influence rears its head, too, as Joachim Crohne, the biggest tycoon in Denmark, blackmails Brigitte by threaten to take his business abroad. Fortunately, this is Denmark, and he proves to be far too patriotic and ultimately decent to carry out his threat. How very unlike certain voices from the British banking sector.

Philip is, of course, part of the solution here in his role as dispenser of sage advice, insisting to Birgitte that it’s all more or less a game of poker. And Philip continues to be a rock for her, looking after their children and everything at home. But there are cracks: a couple of scenes demonstrate how Birgitte is slowly losing touch with her husband, and a tired Philip rejects her advances at the end, taking All the bedclothes, and almost starts to show a little resentment at her bringing her laptop to bed. Even this happy family is beginning to look troubled because the wife and mother is absent. Of course, this is horribly unfair, as we all know perfectly well that the same expectations are not placed on husbands and fathers. This is every bit as relevant to the episode’s political themes.

It’s interesting, too, that this episode sees Kaspar as horribly clueless about all the women in his life. His flirting at Kiltgaard, and his terribly misjudged attempt to make a pass at her, only leads to arse-clenching awkwardness. And he seems to be losing Katrine to a fitness instructor who may be rude but is at least open and honest- the very qualities which Kaspar lacks.

Borgen: 100 Days

“I’m having scheduled sex with the Prime Minister?”

I’ve compared Borgen to Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy before; this time I really mean it. We have an episode about security and murky cover-ups of CIA renditions, with all the suspense, drama, and threat of off-the-record police harassment of journalists that implies. But this is just a backdrop: the episode is really about colonialism, in layers. What Greenland is to Denmark, Denmark is to the USA. Neither nation is truly independent, and both feel a little emasculated. Yet both finish the episode by asserting a little independence and a little dignity. I’m reminded of the excellent Michael Frayn play Copenhagen, in which Niels Bohr speaks of the proud independence of a small country.

Even the opening quote is from a Greenlander. It’s fascinating to see a light being shone into a place of which I, being British, am hardly aware. But the relationship between coloniser and colonised, however postmodern, is familiar to anyone in the awkward situation of being a citizen of a former colonial power which has done bad things. There’s glorious wit in the ritualised relationship between Birgitte as Danish Prime Minister and the Greenland premier, Jens Enok, where the Permanent Secretary (Denmark has its Sir Humphreys too!) casually remarks that he is, symbolically, “used to” waiting outside.

What’s wonderful is that Enok immediately undercuts the premise of his meeting with Birgitte by deconstructing the entire situation. He knows that, although he is under the control of Denmark, the use of the base at Thule to transport illegally rendited prisoners is at the behest of America. There’s a three-way pecking order. I’m reminded of a certain old sketch about class: the Americans are John Cleese, Birgitte is Ronnie Barker and Enok is Ronnie Corbett. And I sure you that wasn’t a sentence I was expecting to write at the beginning of this paragraph.

Journalism gets looked at here, too as we see the pressures put upon Katrine to drop her story. There’s a great deal of ambiguity; her boss is alternately brave and cowardly when it comes to running this inflammatory material. She’s put under a great deal of threat by “special branch” harassment and mysterious burglaries, and one interview is suspiciously incompetent and Peter O’Hanra-Hanrahanlike. Nevertheless, dark conspiracy theory-friendly behaviour by the state only goes so far in Denmark, and threats to arrest and charge much of the newsroom never come to much.

The ending, suicide aside, is uplifting, as Birgitte shows that she genuinely cares about Greenland and makes a token gesture of defiance to US power. But there’s a clearly intended parallel between the people of Greenland and Katrine’s mole- both are prone to suicide, excessive drinking and sexual misconduct and it’s implied (perhaps too simplistically) that all this is a symptom of national humiliation.

This was a very different episode. Borgen continues to expand the things it can do. Birgitte seems to pass her ethical test this time, but the cracks in her family relationships are becoming more and more visible…

Borgen: The Art of the Possible

“Did she curtsey?!”

It looks as though not all of the opening quotes are going to be from Machiavelli, patron saint of spin doctors. This time we get to redress the balance as Churchill puts a word in for the politicians- and, significantly, this is much more directly about the politicians, and their part in the “game”.

If I have one criticism of this episode it’s the few moments early on where Hanne (now a tabloid commentator) is used to explain how vital the upcoming finance bill is to the government’s survival; it comes across as a rather crude piece of exposition. But that’s my only criticism of the episode, and it’s really just a nitpick. Basically, the excellence continues. If it stays like this, I think we’re going to have to take the gushing as read from now on. There are only so many ways you can praise something.

Anyway, two months have passed, and there are subtle changes. But it’s noticeable that Birgitte has been far too busy to choose the paintings for her office and, wonderfully, she’s stuck with a rubbish secretary because no Department with have her! Naturally, she’s dumped on the Prime Minister. This is pure Yes, Minister. I love it.

It’s already obvious that Birgitte has little or no time for her family, and her relationship with her husband is already suffering. This can only get worse. And the days when she refused to profit from dirt on her political opponents are far behind her- she agrees to fight dirty against one of the two independents very early on. She’s much more ruthless, too, instantly rejecting Hesselboe’s attempts at a deal, and finally drawing a wedge between the Liberals and the New Right. (Why are there two centre-right parties? I get the impression that the Liberals are economic liberals while the New Right are more socially conservative, but it's a bit murky.)

Laugesen has now become a tabloid editor, baying for Birgitte’s blood. I think we can assume he’s the villain of the series, and he’s eventually going to do something very bad indeed. What’s wonderful is that he’s simultaneously such a cartoon villain and entirely realistic in this environment. Kaspar’s future becomes clear, too; Birgitte well and truly learns her lesson in this episode and learns that she needs not a handsome Professor of Rhetoric but a master of the dark arts. He’s certainly very, very competent, whether as a TV commentator or quickly diagnosing the problem on the day he’s re-hired. But he’s so, so cold, worst of all with his lies to Katrine. Even so, the sight of him in a pool hall on Christmas Day made me feel a twinge of sympathy. And it’s established that his past is mysterious- presumably there’ll be a pay-off?

Katrine’s story is less clear, though. The pregnancy subplot comes to a very abrupt end but her life seems to get no less complicated. She and Kaspar seem to be destined to come together in a way, either as a couple or for another reason. There must be a reason for the flashbacks of their earlier relationship, after all.

So, there are some obvious things to expect (Birgitte’s deteriorating family life and increasing ruthlessness), but I have no idea about everything else. The tone is pretty much set though, I think, and I love it. The humour (I love the art!) leavens the ruthlessness perfectly. I haven’t been so excited about watching the next episode of a series since Spiral, which says some worrying things about English language TV!

Borgen: Count to 90

“I'd been so looking forward to the Prime Minister giving me a blow job...”

I thought the first episode was good, but this is a real step change. We’ve introduced the show, the way it works, and the major characters, so it’s time for the programme to start doing the cool stuff. There’s just so much cleverness in this episode, and it’s now a lot clearer how the show is going to work.

The Machiavellian quote is this time clearly applicable to Birgitte, and the qualities she’s going to need if she’s going to negotiate a coalition with herself, and not the Labour leader, as Prime Minister. There’s one thing that puzzles me, though: if Labour has more MP’s, why is Birgitte asked to be Royal Investigator instead of Laugesen?

The scenes in the palace, waiting for the Queen to get her act together, are wonderful. I love the giggles between Birgitte and Bent (I love Bent, even if he does look disturbingly like Jim Royle) as they acknowledge the absurdities of monarchy and tradition. Like myself, they’re left of centre and therefore semi-republican in that they see the silliness and fundamentally reactionary nature of the institution (I’ve just Googled what happened in 1849), but don’t actually want to get rid of it because of the big, scary question of what happens next. Both of them are very irreverent (“Can’t the bitch count?”) but there’s not going to be a revolution. Queen Margrethe can’t appear, of course, but there’s a nice little dig at her trademark smoking habit.

The use of Svend Åge Saltum, leader of the far-right Freedom party, is interesting and provocative. I’m sure I personally would find all his views to be beyond the pale, but he’s clearly being used as the voice of common sense. He clearly understands the game of politics intimately- he knows he’s “evil incarnate” in Birgitte’s “intellectual little world” and therefore that she’s showing signs of weakness in even talking to him. This episode is about Birgitte’s overcoming these signs of weakness to become Prime Minister, and the moral sacrifices she has to make to do so. She may be outmanoeuvred by Laugesen’s ambush, but she gets rid of him by doing a dodgy deal to leak some damaging emails from a senior Labour politician who wants his job- as bent says, Caesar was murdered by his friends, too”.

But this is a direct parallel to last episode, where she refused to profit by such dirty tricks. Already she’s starting to compromise her principles for the sake of power. Such is politics.

Fortunately, there’s the balance provided by her family. Her husband continues to be wonderful, a rock, and gives her some great advice. And there’s a wonderful scene where she takes his advice, pins him down in bed and prepares to go on top, at the “head of the table”.

The funeral is fantastic too, and not only because the inside of a Danish Lutheran church and the clothing of the minister look like something out of a painting by Rembrandt. The mobiles bleeping in the congregation is a wonderful touch, and the line delivered by the bereaved wife about politics being her husband’s “mistress” is a nice touch, especially with Katrine in the congregation, struggling to hold it together. Interestingly, we get even more references to politics as a game.

Birgitte may need a bit of a pep talk from the wonderful Bent to make the final step, but her power bluffing is wonderful, especially her blatant theft of Hesselboe’s idea of a Department of International Development.

There are also subplots bubbling away in the background. Is Katrine going to hold it together? Is she pregnant? What’s going to happen between her and Hanne after their surprising rapprochement? And what’s going to happen with the increasingly self-centred and duplicitous Kaspar, without a role but clearly destined for something?

This is gripping, addictive stuff. I’m hooked.

Borgen: Decency in the Middle

“Kaspar, if I asked you to write a speech about capital punishment, you’d say ‘For or against?’

“I wasn’t hired for my convictions.”

This is not the sort of thing I’ve been reviewing up till now, to put it mildly. There are no aliens, monsters or vampires in it. But it’s not all sci-fi and fantasy with me although, yes, I certainly swing that way. I also enjoy classy dramas and stuff, I’m a bit of a politics junkie, and I thought it would be fun, as I’m going to be doing short runs of short series in between series of Buffy, to take a look at Borgen. It helps that I’m slightly deaf, always use subtitles when I can, and therefore have no issues whatsoever with subtitled dramas in other languages. Also, I’ve recorded it, it’s taking up space, and it has to be watched pretty urgently. It’ll be interesting to see if this means a massive nosedive in pageviews, though. I’ve never reviewed anything like this before and most people likely to be interested have already seen it!

I’ve read so much orgasmic enthusiasm for this in the broadsheet culture sections over the last couple of months, which led me to expect something much more cerebral and, let’s say, challenging than the first episode I’ve just watched. Instead, I’ve found a programme which, while intelligent and full of lovely multi-layered subtext, is a damned exciting watch, a thriller, except with political skulduggery except for guns and killing. It’s all so beautifully shot, and acted, too.

It’s also, of course, full of the kind of metatextual fun that I love so much, with a heavy focus on the media. There’s a great deal

It probably helps that Denmark’s political system is pretty much analogous to Britain’s, of course, and we’ve even become used to the concept of coalitions of late. It’s odd to see so much coalition-related plotting before the election, though. But, in spite of the differences, it all feels pleasantly accessible. Oddly enough, if there’s a programme it reminds me of then it’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

This is only the first episode, though, setting up the events that leave Birgitte Nyborg, leader of the centrist Moderate party, to become prime minister, with her party having unexpectedly become the largest in Parliament following a somewhat chaotic final televised debate.

Still, this episode is mostly set-up and establishing the style and the characters. It’s difficult to draw many conclusions thus far. So let’s have a look at the main characters.

Birgitte is charismatic (her final speech is magnificent if not, of course, entirely typical), but also highly moral, as shown by her refusal to blackmail Lars Hesselboe when Kaspar presents her with some juicy incriminating info. This being the first episode, of course, I suspect that the fact we’re being shown this points to all sorts of morally murky decisions that she’s going to have to make as PM.

She’s also a woman who “has it all”- a loving husband and two kids- and is therefore under enormous pressure, as career women often are, usually doing far more than their fair share of the childcare and domestic chores. This is another marker that’s been put down in the first episode, no doubt to be developed. We can already see that work / life balance is a potentially huge issue.

The most fascinating character is Kaspar. For one thing, he’s uncannily similar to the loathsome Andy Coulson in both appearance and (from what I’ve seen) mannerisms. He practises the dark arts of spin, er, medicine, and is clearly addicted to politics for the power, the fun and the skulduggery rather than the principles. I rather suspect that the opening quote from Machiavelli is referring in large part to him. The fact that he gets fired means I have no idea what he’s going to do next; he’s certainly in demand, not least from Michael Laugesen, the Labour leader. But he’s far too prominent not to be a regular character. I’m sure there are big plans for him. I wonder if there’ll be any comebacks from his tampering with the scene of the Liberal spin doctor’s death.

Lars Hesselboe, in spite of being a right-wing sort and therefore not likely to endear himself to me, is presented as a fundamentally decent chap whose “borrowing” of public funds to finance his wife’s enormous purchases in Oxford Street is presented sympathetically- he’s simply overwhelmed by events. Still, it’s confusing, and disturbing, to see a conservative party calling itself the “Liberals” when the party I vote for is currently in a coalition with the Evil Ones. Oh, and why are the Liberals in London talking to some “experts” three days before the election? Do we Brits have some kind of Europe-wide reputation in the dark arts of spin?

Michael Laugesen is a slimy little creep, the sort of principle-free selfish twat, in charge of an ostensibly left-wing party, which I find so very familiar, having been ruled for ten years by the similarly odious Tony Blair. Laugesen has an interesting line about how Danish politics is basically an oligarchy, delivered shortly after he quite literally pisses over Parliament.

Finally, there’s Katrine, our identification character from the media. Her life is already quite horribly complicated, and as far as she’s concerned the morally dodgy and very clever Kaspar knows where the bodies are buried. I suspect there will be complications.

So, the election is over… what happens next?