Whiskey on the Rocks

Whiskey on the Rocks is a satire about the past, yet it could easily be set in the present and we wouldn't know the difference. During the first two episodes, I thought to myself if the comedy was too broad. Then, I realized it probably wasn't broad enough, and how terrifying that is.

Most of the series if fiction, as the opening credits happily remind us. It's true that in the 1980s, a Soviet submarine accidentally ran into the shallows about 10 kilometers from a Swedish naval base. At the time, Sweden was testing their new equipment, so the accident was seen as a breach of sovereignty and a potential act of war.

The situation itself resolved reasonably, all things considered. But in the hands of Swedish satirists, Whiskey on the Rocks turns into a political farce akin to Death of Stalin, where caricatures of real-life figures bounce from potentially world-ending scenarios to the next. If modern politics wasn't so horrifically stupid, I'd argue Whiskey on the Rocks was too out there. But take one look at who is in charge today, and all this feels right on the money.

The Swedes are led by Thorbjörn Fälldin, played by Rolf Lassgård, known best to international audiences from the Wallander film and TV adaptations. His laconic charm anchors the series with much-needed charm, as Fälldin would rather tend to his farm than this international drama.

Opposite to him is Finnish actress Elsa Saisio, who admirably holds her own as the Soviet ambassador to Sweden, Aleksandra Kosygina. Saisio performs the part in multiple languages, and it's a marvel to see her switch effortlessly in both dialect and tone without ever seeing her homework. She's magnetic, funny, and unreadable. In short, perfect as a would-be spy and diplomat.

Elsewhere, solid Swedish performers like Niklas Engdahl, Filip Berg, and Adam Lundgren impress with smartly calculated acts that tightrope between slapstick and terror fantastically. Whiskey on the Rocks works so well because these actors understand their actions are ridiculous, yet never downplay how terrifying the real-world consequences could have been.

It's that balance which made me love this mini-series. It lulls you into complacency with its dry wit and droll theatrics, and then promptly pulls the rug out from under you by showcasing the weight of patriotic zeal and blind hatred. It's very Nordic in tone, full of gallows humour and unflinching pragmatism in its laughs. We'll go cackling to the grave, as we always have.

At six episodes in length, I did wish that Whiskey on the Rocks had a little bit more room to breathe. It has to spin into overdrive toward the end, after taking it somewhat easy in the first two episodes. By the time Saisio's character arrives on-screen, her and Lassgård take over the show with such force you'd want them on all the time. As the tension ramps up in the finale, it all feels like a bit too tidy a ribbon to close things off. There's a level of Burn After Reading here, too, which is only a good thing, even if Whiskey on the Rocks isn't quite the knee-slapper that the Coen Brothers are.

Nevertheless, this is a fantastic satiric thriller, full of huge belly laughs and unnerving moments. Superbly performed, it's one of the best original series to come out of Disney+ in a long while, and one of the finest Nordic series while we're at it. Entirely worth your time for a long weekend, especially as a reminder that we've been here before, and the only thing we can do is look at the horrors coming our way and smile.