We’re witnessing the last laps of the Scandinavian crime wave, that border-crossing multimedia movement that washed so much frosty-to-glacial genre fiction onto our shores and screens. The detective heroes of TV imports “Wallander” and “The Bridge” walked into the low winter sunset, while the “Girl With Dragon Tattoo” cycle has stalled to a point where reboots have been decreed necessary. Adapting “The Snowman,” one of Norwegian scribe Jo Nesbø’s bestselling Harry Hole mysteries, isn’t the studios’ worst idea of 2017. Yet it does feel like a tardy one, and despite the industry heft thrown at Tomas Alfredson’s film, its execution leaves much to be desired.
Beyond these stellar opening credits, there stretch two hours of icy, mostly lifeless waste. Nesbø’s seventh Hole book provides the basis for this first movie, hence a certain front-loading of defective-detective tics. Michael Fassbender’s Harry is discovered blotto in an Oslo bus shelter,...
Beyond these stellar opening credits, there stretch two hours of icy, mostly lifeless waste. Nesbø’s seventh Hole book provides the basis for this first movie, hence a certain front-loading of defective-detective tics. Michael Fassbender’s Harry is discovered blotto in an Oslo bus shelter,...
- 10/11/2017
- by Mike McCahill
- Indiewire
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