‘Beck’ the series, based on books of another era

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/12/2021 (1617 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

I recall a tradition that allows unwrapping one Christmas present early, so here goes. It’s the Swedish cop series, “Beck.” It’s a bit tricky to find so some of the pleasure may lie in the packaging.

“Beck” is a Scandi noir, like “Wallander” and Stieg Larsson’s series on the girl with the dragon tattoo, which led to anglicized TV like “The Killing” or “The Bridge.” Henning Mankell, who wrote the Wallanders, traced their source to the 10 Martin Beck novels, from 1965-75. I think you could also argue a link to Ingemar Bergman, among some who felt he took the bleakness and darkness too theologically, and chose to drive those impulses in another direction.

One likable touch in the Beck books was their political subtlety. Wallander and Lisbeth Salander (tattoo girl) were overtly, even gaudily, left wing. Mankell himself rode one of the “Freedom Flotilla” boats boarded by Israeli forces en route to Gaza. The Beck books, in the shank of the Sixties, felt beguilingly like a left critique of Swedish socialism but you weren’t certain till the last word of the 10th book, when one homicide detective, as his final Scrabble move, lays down “MARX.”

Almost immediately one of the writers, Per Wahloo, died. (His partner, Maj Sjowall, died last year.) A couple of U.S. movies were based on them, and some Swedish TV. But they seemed to fade away, as sometimes happens to early pioneers of cultural phenomena like, say, the Celtic music revival.

Then, starting in 1997, came “Beck,” the series. It’s still going, 24 years later: 42 episodes, each a self-contained, 90 minute movie. For longevity there’s nothing like it except “Law and Order SVU,” which I find grinding and repetitive. “Beck” takes its cop team from an era when socialist revolution seemed imminent (but would not be televised) and time-travels them to the age of smartphones and social media. Yet it’s still them!

In place of 1960s’ leftist activism and parties, this Beck puts a homicide squad community at its centre, as if stressing that what got lost in Swedish “socialism” was the social essence of being human; it opposes an alienated ‘workforce’ with their inherently communal, if always struggling, humanity.

What undermined all the “actually existing socialisms” was bureaucracy. Its debilitating force lives on in “Beck.” His boss makes him talk about how satisfied he is in his job. Beck is befuddled. He says defensively “I come to work every day.” The boss says, Just answer these questions — from an HR handout.

The question of violence plagued those past revolutionary movements (“By any means necessary!”). Cops are given the right to be violent, by the state. “Beck” explores this by elevating the most primitive cop on the original team, Gunvald Larsson, to second-in-command. He’s likable, rough and possibly on the spectrum. He tells an earnest young colleague that there are two ways to handle some criminals. One is violence. And the other? Violence. The show doesn’t try to resolve this issue. It’s art, not political philosophy.

So it’s nice to see Scandi noir have an afterlife in “Beck,” even as the genre starts to fade or be replaced by Brit knockoffs like “Shetland” and “Broadchurch.”

The Grinch has tried to keep Beck off the usual streamers but you can get it on Hoopla, Toronto Public Library’s streaming service, if you just have a card.

Besides, even if few outsiders find it, so what? The Swedes revived Beck when he seemed defunct and have kept it going for 24 years without flashy foreign sales. This proves, someone said, that they really respect themselves.

Most Scandi noirs seemed to have an eye on global success. But Beck (the cop) was always true to himself in a modest Swedish way. It’s their myth and they’re gonna tell and retell it because it resonates for them. You can’t say that for too many cultural products in the global era, now fading a bit itself.

Rick Salutin is a freelance contributing columnist for the Star. He is based in Toronto. Reach him via email: salutinrick@gmail.com