Winner of the 2021 Petrona Award for Best Scandinavian Crime Novel, Mikael Niemi’s To Cook a Bear (Koka Björn) has been adapted into a stunning six-part series for Disney+. It’s a fascinating amalgamation of the classic detective story, historical drama, murder mystery and a Western. Plunging viewers into a world of superstitions, prejudices, religion and death, the series draws striking parallels to contemporary society.
The series opens in Northern Sweden in 1852, with a new pastor (Gustaf Skarsgård) and his family arriving in the isolated village of Kengis. With a strong belief in justice and change, he challenges the local elite but faces resistance as his fiery sermons challenge long-established hierarchies. At the same time, the village is shaken by disappearances, deaths and frightening rumours of bear attacks.
When the pastor and his Sámi foster son, Jussi (Emil Kárlsen), lead the search, they make a horrific discovery that creates deep rifts in the village’s fragile community. What are the villagers willing to do to protect themselves, and where does the line between justice and vengeance lie?
Norwegian director Trygve Allister Diesen (Wisting, Crime and Inspector Winter) skillfully blends genres and styles, here to give viewers a series that is part detective story, historical drama, murder mystery and a Western. There’s a spectacular scene in episode one in which The Pastor attempts to buy alcohol in the local shop, a request that draws shifty glances and shocked close-ups that wouldn’t be out of place in a Sergio Leone film.
There are so many suspects, red herrings and eccentric characters in the mix, here, too. Each episode brings a new danger, as your attention is drawn towards a particular character. (And, it has to be said, not many in this village are the fair-minded Christians they proclaim to be.)
In the lead role, Gustaf Skarsgård offers a fascinatingly complex performance. The Pastor is a firebrand and ready to rock the boat, but he is also not without flaw. His decision to drag his family to the unwelcoming village is fuelled by his own desire to make a difference; his need for his adopted son, Jussi, to follow in his footsteps alienates his daughter.
We see a man who can be radical and forward thinking – including blending science and faith – but can also be frustrating and obtuse. Skarsgård delivers the Pastor’s sermons with fire in his eyes; stalks the countryside like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues; and offers up his softest side whilst having night-time heart-to-hearts with his wife, Brita Kajsa (Ane Dahl Torp).
Emil Kárlsen plays Jussi, who was taken in by the Pastor when he was just a boy. Moulded to be just like his adoptive father, he is a young man who is struggling to find his way in a world that belittles and degrades the Sámi people. His desire to fit in – and perhaps find love – is so utterly touching and admirable, yet you cannot help but fear for the heartbreak and violence he is sure to face. Kárlssen gives a performance full of youthful naivete, earnestness and weariness.
Often found sparring with The Pastor are Pernilla August’s Madam Sjödahl and Magnus Krepper’s Police Inspector Brahe. Their desire to ensure the status quo remains – it is much more convenient to blame an ethnic minority for a crime than to look inwards – is what fuels their behaviour towards both the Pastor and the wider community. Cast as the creepy, lustful and eccentric artist, Beronius, Simon J. Berger does a phenomenal job of making your skin crawl.
The landscape of northern Sweden is practically a character within itself. Sunlight is the colour of burnt corn, whilst nighttime brings an inky violence to proceedings. Within the village, livestock bray, mosquitoes linger and the steel mill knocks and sighs.
The soundscape is relentless, immersing you in a life of physical labour and a few moments of joy. The opening moments of the first episode treat viewers to Faroese singer Eivør’s hauntingly beautiful Trøllabundin.
The costuming adds another layer of intricacy to the series. The Pastor’s “casual wear” (if such a thing existed in 1852) consists of a heavy woollen coat, muddied boots and hat that lends him a striking silhouette. Whilst preaching, he is cloaked in an elaborate ruff that lends a sense of pomp and ceremony to his fiery preaching style.
Most of the villagers are caked in a layer of mud that no amount of scrubbing seems to fend off. Women cover their (often braided) hair; working men have worn their shirts at the elbows. The richer classes, meanwhile, enjoy form-fitting tailoring in more genteel fabrics. No need for durability if you own the mill, rather than work there.
And we’re dealing with a community in which misogyny is casual, ethnic and racial tensions are everywhere, outsiders are not welcomed and religion is only acceptable if it’s the familiar brand. We could be anywhere in 2025, not Sweden in 1852. The parallels to contemporary society are unmissable (and more than a little disheartening – have we learned nothing as humans?).
To Cook a Bear (Koka Björn) boasts stellar performances, intrigue and a striking sense of time and place. Gustaf Skarsgård brings yet another intricate, nuanced character to the screen, whilst director Trygve Allister Diesen revels in plunging his viewers into a community wrapped in secrets. This is a story that is truly engrossing as it unravels, making attempts to resist the temptation to stick on another episode utterly futile.
To Cook a Bear (Koka Björn) comes to Disney+ on 15 October. Read our interview with the series star Gustaf Skarsgård HERE