The Killing isn’t my first box set experience. I tried my luck with Mad Men – but after a few episodes, I got bored. Only the dresses impressed me. Then I discovered The Wire. Far more intriguing. I enjoyed each episode, without sensing a desperate urge to watch the next one. Weeks often passed before I sat down to savour the follow up.
Not so with The Killing. My husband and I watched episode 1-4 on that Friday. On Monday I ordered the complete Series One on amazon. I held out till last Friday. After episode 7, at around 11pm, my husband went to bed. I slipped under the covers at 3am. Saturday evening we went out with friends. I hardly drank any wine because I had unfinished business to attend to. When we arrived home at midnight, my husband went upstairs to read his book, I turned on the DVD in the sitting room. At 4.30am I finally managed to tear myself away from the screen. Today I spent most of the time telling myself that I will not – under any circumstances – watch another episode until next Friday. I even hid the box set behind the books on the top shelf.
“Look at you. You are a sad addict.” Peirene stood in the door as I climbed down from the ladder which I especially fetched to reach the top shelf. I started. I didn’t hear her come.
“No, I am not. I’ve got the situation perfectly under control.” I folded the ladder.
“Oh really?! That’s not what it looks like to me.” Replied Peirene in a cocky voice, hands on both hips.
“I am just tidying the DVDs away, otherwise the place looks a mess.” I tried not to sound too defensive. “And anyway, you should watch The Killing too. It’s just like our books.”
“I am a cultured Nymph. I don’t waste my time watching mass market TV dramas. I hope you manage to turn up at work tomorrow, considering your lack of sleep over the weekend.” She was about to turn away.
“Wait.” I held her back. “Give me a chance to explain: Each episode of The Killing is the perfect length, a self contained little film. As a whole the series is a beautifully curated showcase of murder stories, held together by a common theme, the killing of Nanna Birk Larsen. Just like our series. Each book an individual short lit gem, that gains momentum by belonging to a curated series. Peirene and The Killing are both the ultimate forms of cultural expression for our day and age.”
The Nymph didn’t reply. She merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow and walked off.
Three hours ago I head noise from the sitting room. I stuck my head around the corner. The Nymph! Watching The Killing. “I just want to see if you are right.” She said with a guilty smile.
I might join her later on. Just for one tiny episode.
Image by Crafty Fox.