WALLANDER
by Cara Winter
I’ve been a fan of Kenneth Branagh’s work since the early 1990’s. When my parents finally bought a VCR, the first movie I rented from our local mom-and-pop video store was HENRY V, directed by and starring Branagh. I rented it so many times, the store owner eventually just let me keep it.
Over the years, I’ve seen almost everything Branagh has done, both in front of and behind the camera. (By the way, if you haven’t seen him opposite Robin Wright in Michael Kalesniko’s HOW TO KILL YOUR NEIGHBOR’S DOG? Go, watch it. Right now. I’ll wait.) So imagine my excitement when I learned (via LB, from whom all good things spring) of the existence of the BBC’s WALLANDER, starring the man himself. (Yes, a happy dance ensued.)
On the surface, WALLANDER is a run-of-the-mill detective show: a crime is committed, Detective Kurt Wallander (Branagh) is called in, and he attempts to figure out who-done-it. But just scratch the surface, and there’s so much more. Wallander lives alone in a sparsely furnished apartment; he drinks (quietly, in front of the TV) until he passes out; he forgets (or ignores?) his dad’s birthday.