TV Review: Detective Harry Hole; Michael Jackson - An American Tragedy

For a while, watching Netflix’s new series Detective Harry Hole, I did wonder if author Jo Nesbø had a fondness for silly names. I mean, there’s that obviously dubious lead character name to begin with, but when we had a character called Barli attacked by, well, a serial killer, I began to wonder if Nesbø was falling into the same trap as Charles Dickens.

Not to worry: the Barli/serial pun only works in dialogue, and after all English is not the author’s first language: Harry Hole’s surname, in its native Norwegian, is pronounced “hool-eh”. Still, it wasn’t exactly exciting news that the show was on the way, since the character’s last outing was in the laughable The Snowman with Michael Fassbender; and, well, have we had too many only-middling Nordic dramas by now?

This new series, with Tobias Santelmann playing Hole, doesn’t start well: he’s just another depressed, alcoholic, maverick cop with a tragic past, simmering in an Oslo that’s smothered in green filters (presumably just to get away from the grey-rain look of most Nordic series) and filled with violent crime. As we join him, he’s trying for a settled domestic life with new girlfriend Rakel (and her son Oleg), but can’t help obsessing over old unsolved crimes. Meanwhile, there’s gang warfare on the streets, a puzzling serial killer, and dangerous police corruption led by Hole’s colleague Tom Waaler (Joel Kinnaman), who is essentially Hole’s shining, swaggering opposite.

Actually, while it finds its feet it’s often just these two who keep you watching: Santelmann is believably uneasy in his own skin, and Kinnaman is chilling, a kind of Henry Cavil gone to moral seed. And then, after a couple of episodes, you realise you’re actually starting to enjoy it.

It has faults: it’ll be too violent in places for some, and several subplots are just left unresolved (but may make up the bones of another series if they bring it back), and I wasn’t convinced by all those “it came to him in a dream” moments. But its grit, and Hole’s decay, both feel real, and the final showdown is satisfying. It could perhaps have trimmed an hour off, but mostly its undiluted approach works, and earns another series.

There aren’t many people who knew Michael Jackson as a person rather than as the planet's biggest recording artist (or oddest tabloid obsession), but BBC’s three-part series Michael Jackson: An American Tragedy rounds up a respectable number in a new retelling of his career and life. The series traces Jackson's journey from his breakout 1960s years with the Jackson 5 to his death in 2009, digging up footage and interviews I at least am not familiar with. That’s important, because the story itself is quite familiar: the soft-spoken child who shone even in a band referred to as “the black Beatles”, the solo stardom, the surgeries, the pets, the scandals. Despite all his talent, though, for decades it’s been true that, when you hear his name "You don't think what a great artist, you think, what a weird guy", as one commentator here says.

And, of course, the first episode looked at the iron regime and hurtful comments of the Jackson’s father Joseph. LaToya Jackson says “he wasn’t as cruel as everyone says”, but she seems barely convinced herself. What came across mostly in episode one is that, aside from the damage done to a child whose worth is only judged by profits, Michael never had little chance to be normal or self-aware because he had never had a normal existence to judge things by.

That’s just one episode, though, so presumably the rest will look at the child abuse accusations and the ever-widening gulf between MJ and the world. There is, so far, no real attempt at analysis, or at challenging those who tried to protect the brand regardless of the victims he left behind. But while it does nothing new, it does at least put the separate elements of the Jackson story all in the same place, which might help put some context on the forthcoming biopic Michael.