From the desert landscape of the deep south of Australia to the green and deep rural Ireland, a long journey by Elliot and Helen in the hope that the amnesiac protagonist will regain his memory is the focus of the six chapters of the second season of The Tourist.
Mies Van der Rohe's statement “Less is more” has rarely found a better place in the two seasons of the adventures and misadventures of Elliot and Helen. A minimalist Ireland with scattered houses and farms shows more violence in these places than one can imagine. Of course, you then remember events like those in Puerto Hurraco, in Badajoz, and the village praise inevitably collapses.
Harry and Jack Williams' excellent series, shown on HBO Max, goes beyond the two essential components of violence and beer and frames it in a story of the deadly rivalry between two families, albeit without Romeo and Juliet, as Karina sang. A hatred that has been carried for two generations and which Elliot becomes embroiled in shortly after arriving in his native Ireland. Someone in Australia had suggested that returning to his country of origin might help him regain his lost memory, in addition to escaping the cruel persecution of fat Billy Nixon (Ólafur Darri Ólafsson), which he senses is a threat Adjusting accounts for his mafia past.
The plot also contains certain elements of 19th century Greek tragedy and melodrama, but these are not exaggerated and follow a certain logic. To this we should add a series of colorful supporting characters, such as the local psychopathic policeman, Elliot's mother and matriarch of the clan or the patriarch of the rival family, characters that allow us to distance ourselves from the heartthrob and the lady he plays wonderful actors in one Ireland, which is little known and where the passions unleashed are shown to be universal.
Nothing to do with Furies, the French series by Jean-Yves Arnaud and Yoann Legave (Netflix) in which the violence is constant and the plot that tries to justify it is banal. It's an immersion in a hypothetical Parisian underworld where two brave ladies roam, dealing and receiving incredible blows. It is not known whether this preponderance of female roles is a consequence of a misunderstanding of Me Too or the frivolity of some screenwriters who only strive to be épater les bourgeois.
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