Bad Roommates · Serpico · Bill Skarsgård
So much Netflix!
the true crime that's worth your time
Thanks for your indulgence today. I had some weird allergic reaction last night (can I be developing an aversion to Brussels sprouts?), and my subsequent Benadryl fog makes it tough to pen the review I had planned for today. Please accept this shorter BE for today, and allow me to make it up to you later this week. — EB
I think I just got Stockholm Syndrome from the Stockholm Syndrome guy. Or, rather, Bill Skarsgård’s portrayal of him. Who would have thought that Bill would rise to outshine Alex in the Hottest Skarsgård stakes?
This is based on the teaser for Clark, a Swedish series about Clark Olofsson, the bank robber who so enamored his victims that the whole Syndrome was codified.
Us, when it was announced back in 2020:
noting that the series follows Stockholm/The Captor (it went by both names), a feature-length telling of the story in which Ethan Hawke played Olofsson (our coverage, below).
Per Netflix, Clark is based on Olofsson’s autobiography, Vafan var det som hände, and will run for six episodes released on the extremely vague date of “soon.” The streaming service drops a monster of a quote from director Jonas Åkerlund, and/or the streaming service’s marketing arm, you pick! Here it is:
Swedish rockstar criminal Clark Olofsson is famous all over the world for a reason. He is a master manipulator, a black belt seducer, a media blitz with a psychotic mind and everything in between. With wit to match his skills with manipulation, this series will take the viewer on a journey back to the swinging 60s and 70s and onward into the darkness of the late 70s and 80s. It’s the Clark Olofsson story we have not seen before. All told by the Stockholm syndrome man himself – the puzzling man behind all the crimes.
I gotta be truthful here: I’m more interested in watching this for the decor than I am for the true crime elements, as 1970s-1980s Scandinavian-style furniture and fashion is one of my greatest passions. But Bill and his big goofy head doesn’t hurt. Whenever “soon” happens, I’m ready. — EB
Frank Serpico is an interesting Twitter presence. The 85-year-old former NYPD officer/whistleblower was immortalized in 1973’s Serpico, the Sidney Lumet feature film based on the book by Peter Maas, which — somewhat improbably, these days — my classmates and I watched in a 1970s-era grade school class. He’s also the subject of 2017 documentary Frank Serpico (it’s on Hulu; I know I’ve seen it but have no recollection).
I went down a Serpico hole after seeing that he was awarded NYPD’s medal of honor “50 years late,” as the AP put it, writing a story based on a few tweets from the honoree. When I went to his Twitter account, I was surprised to see what a mish-mash of tweets there were — it felt like stepping back in time to what the platform was 13-14 years ago, before its primary purpose became as a megaphone for outrage of all types.
Yes, there are the expected reaction tweets on upsetting crimes (see: outrage megaphone), but there are also tweets on bread he just baked and coffee he just brewed. There are tweets from his now-rural life (birds in the heater, a lemon tree planted from seed) and tweets that oppose the systemic nature of police brutality.
The other unexpected (by me) revelation came from the Serpico Wikipedia page, which has loads of strange details: Serpico was barred from the set by Lumet because he might make Al Pacino (who played the film version of Serpico) "self-conscious.” Serpico didn’t see the movie until 2010. And there was a failed 1976 TV series based on the movie and book, with the title role played by David Birney, who decades later was accused of domestic abuse by ex-wife Meredith Baxter-Birney. We did not watch the episodes of the series that aired (it was canceled before it could complete its run) at school, which is maybe why I missed it. Anyway, here’s the opening credits for that whole thing.
Given the sad timelessness of the themes of Serpico’s life — that modern-day policing is systemically corrupt, that efforts to reform policing are stifled by those who vowed to uphold the law, and that racism is alive and well in the U.S. — it seems that this is a great time to take one more dramatic run at the Serpico story, perhaps this time with his participation (should he be interested! He does seem to be having fun with his birds; maybe he doesn’t want to!).
As opposed to the frustrating ending of the film, we have the real-life conclusion of the octogenarian officially recognized for his work all those years ago. There’s something there, folks. It’s worth considering. — EB
Yeah, if you call a show Worst Roommate Ever you’ll get my click. Most adults have a bad roommate story, even if they’ve been blessed with the type of uncomplicated life where they segued from their parental home to their adult one. Because even if you didn’t have a bad roommate, someone you know did. You can see why this is a no-brainer for Netflix. But, so, what is this thing?
Per Blumhouse Television, the wide-ranging production house behind everything from the dramatic adaptation of The Thing About Pam (more on that later this week) to a lot of crappy streaming-only horror movies, the five-episode docuseries “highlights four harrowing tales of seemingly harmless roommates turning into real-life nightmares for their unsuspecting victims when their malevolent and sometimes violent intentions are revealed.”
Frustratingly for our purposes here, no usable identifying details on the actual cases are revealed in the trailer or the press materials for the show, so it’s hard to tell if these are full-on tales of true crime or just Reddit-level shitty roommate yarns. “These unsettling true stories chronicle the masked menace that can be lurking right down the hall,” Netflix says in its release (which, maybe we pause phrases like “masked menace” until we’re past the point where we all think “I hope it’s a N95!”).
Is the lack of actual detail something that should worry us about the quality of the actual show? I do wonder about that, but maybe they’re trying to keep things as universal as possible. As both Sarah and I have experience in the area of roommates, we’ll probably both take a look at this, and will report back with a recommendation around when it drops on Netflix on March 1. — EB
Wednesday on Best Evidence: True crime and the Oscars.
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