EIn a little bit, you will have breathed a sigh of relief in Rostock when the black sun disappeared. The man who was something like the heart of darkness in the Hanseatic city. Sascha Bukow (spoken with two ff). Commissar with a rather impure relationship with the underworld. One of us, the honest skin, the big belly of the Rostock “police call”.
He was there for twelve years. Now he is in Siberia. And, says his boss, he won’t be coming back. He says that to König (Anneke Kim Sarnau). She has been in love with Bukow since they saw each other. In fact. She only admitted that at the very end. Then night finally fell around Bukow.
Now she’s sitting there – “You can’t choose your family” is the name of the first Post-Bukow story – and, gently encouraged by a meditation podcast, makes leaven. That should help. The peace of mind. It doesn’t help the sourdough. She hits him, scratches her. Then she lets herself fall in head first.
The case is not pretty. No case in Rostock was ever nice. It gets really light in Rostock – that’s why it was a bit premature to breathe a sigh of relief – never. A woman lies in her kitchen, almost stabbed to death. Next door her son, almost completely paralyzed after an accident, died miserably because nobody changed his infusions.
Another boy, on drugs, a black sun where others have a heart, stabs a man who picked him up and started jerking off on the drive. The boy’s name is Max. foster child of the genths like Emma. The Genths live where the murderous families of Sunday night crime weeks always lived, in homestead hell on the outskirts of town.
The genths wanted to be family but couldn’t. They looked for children that they could not have. Now they get one. This shifts the relationship tectonics. That exposes the bourgeois do-gooder. This is chipping away at the civilizational enamel that the genths had painstakingly poured over their web of relationships. And, as a rule, all television crime thrillers do not lead to anything good.
ARD/NDR POLICE CALL 110: YOU CAN’T CHOOSE YOUR FAMILY, on Sunday (04/24/22) at 8:15 p.m. in the ERSTE. Ursula (Anika Mauer) takes on Max (Alessandro Schuster) © NDR/Ch…ristine Schroeder, free of charge – use according to the terms and conditions in close editorial context with the mentioned NDR program when naming “Image: NDR/Christine Schroeder” (S2). NDR press and information/photo editing, Tel: 040/4156-2306 or -2305, pressefoto@ndr.de
Source: NDR/Christine Schroeder
So far, everything about “You can’t choose your family” is actually ready-made Sunday night horror. Basically, there were quite a few cases from the Baltic Sea. Bukow made the difference. And the dirty realism that Charly Hübner, with his ragged clothes, brought to the most ragged police station in television history.
Now we have to get to the muffins. They make the difference. While König, Bukow’s natural successor at the head of the Rostock office, is sinking into her whipped sourdough, Mellie Böwe is putting muffins in the oven in Bochum.
Mellie Böwe is a detective. Single parent. Half sister of Sascha Bukow (she was seen in Rostock once), the bright side of the moon. Empathetic, a caretaker. The first single parent among the Sunday evening detectives (and detectives) with an intact, loving daughter relationship.
Lina Beckmann is Mellie Boewe. Lina Beckmann is the wife of Charly Hübner. And as soon as she stirs her muffins, you know that something was missing on Sunday. And in Rostock. You don’t want to have her as an enemy, this Mellie Böwe. To the girlfriend.
Mellie Böwe brought Max to Rostock. Max is a witness against organized crime. The parents are dead. He is traumatized. drug addict. Lies to everyone. full of pain Paralyzed like his friend who is now dead. Alessandro Schuster is Max. He’s great. One would like to create a reserve for this lost one. And for Emma (Paraschiva Dragus), his sister in the Genths, who of course isn’t, but somehow she is.
Two women who are strangers to each other
König and Böwe bitch each other briefly. fighting for competencies. Then they know they need each other. Know what they have in each other. The empathy monster who can be direct and empathetic. And the street cat that roams around the Bukow Abyss, both of which are quite alien.
Florian Oeller wrote “You can’t choose your family”. Stephan Krohmer staged it. It’s probably one of the most elegant, sleek new beginnings in Sunday night crime history. It’s still not getting any brighter. But we already had that.