So I got a lot out of my parents’ visit over the weekend (in addition, of course, to their company). I like to think that my parents benefitted by the exercise and the sense of wellbeing that comes from doing something for others.
It wasn’t all furniture and shrubbery – we also watched the final two episodes of The Killing, which more than lived up to what had gone before, though now I want to rewatch it from the beginning because that feels a long time ago. We also spent much of the preceding 24 hours speculating as to what was going to happen. The BBC must be kicking themselves for putting the repeat on at such a daft time. I wonder if the next series will make it to BBC2?
Sam Wollaston in the Guardian refrains from giving away the ending, but I have to sympathise with him on this one:
I will say, however, that the end of The Killing has left a frightening gaping void in my life. What is there to think about now, to lie awake worrying about at night? (I had a nice little theory about Nordic neo-Nazism, Mayor Bremer, and the bid for the 1984 Winter Olympics on the go).
I will be interested to see how the US re-make goes - it has the potential to be very interesting. But I also fear an inevitable glamming up and cliche feminising of Sarah Lund, who will not be allowed to be simply a detective on an all-consuming case, but be obliged to worry about her work/life balance and whether she is neglecting her child.