It is 1950s Sweden. Our girl Puck Ekstedt (Tuva Novotny) – all high waisted shorts and summer dresses – lectures in literature at Bergslagen University of Free Love. This old cunt co-worker called Rutger invites her to Midsummer celebrations on an isolated island shitpile just like Agatha Christie’s 10 Little African Americans or Harper’s Island. See where this is going? Fuck’s initial reluctance turns to hell yeah when she learns that history department stud Einar “Eje” Bure (Linus Wahlgren) will be in attendance. Before you know it she’s on a schooner to Death Island. Let the CRIMES OF PASSION begin.
The assembled throng drink schnapps and make merry. Fuck shares a chalet with every holer actress Lil Arosander who’s cheating on her writer borefriend Carl with dopey model Georg right under his nose. Rutger’s old flame Marianne gatecrashes with her pal Viveka and puts everyone’s schnozz right out of joint. It’s no surprise when Marianne winds up croaked in the woods. She really had it coming.
Eejit takes control of the situation and gets his BFF police superintendent Christer Wijk (Ola Rapace) on the case. But Christer is quickly on the curious case of the Bookish Lecturer’s Ass. There’s immediate HEAT between Fuck and he. Eejit no rikee and warns him off. Good luck with that, Eejit. Christer’s schlong knows no limits and accepts no boundaries.
He fits right in with this lot. Everyone’s sticking it to each other figuratively and literally. The improbable hotness of the participants only feeds the nookie frenzy and the influx of used condoms discarded into the ocean alerts Greenpeace who protest the suffocation of a metric ton of innocent herring. After Rutger’s wife Ann tops herself and Georg turns up dead like a cunt in the sea Eejit swims to the mainland through the spunky froth to fetch the law. Turns out Christer’s not that hot at this whole “police” thing after all.
He does however stumble upon the truth of the island murders. That Viveka broad popped Marianne in a fit of jealous rage then shot Georg for being a twat. Christer then shocks everyone by revealing that Ann killing herself was SUICIDE. “Can we go home now?” asks Eejit. They certainly can.
We finish on Fuck and Eejit pashing and that certainly seems to be the ethic the show is running with. The hookups quickly become farcical and the suspicion that everyone is winging it is hard to shake. Fuck it though, it’s better than Montalbano.
The verdict: Island life, loverboy.
Marks out of 10: 6