Almost exactly in the middle of the fifth episode of “When the Dust Settles”, one of the toughest that has ever been seen on television - precisely because the violence that breaks in in all senselessness is not aestheticized; Here, too, this exceptional Danish series remains true to dogma realism - a clatter startles the guests of the atmospheric Copenhagen restaurant “Svin” (“pig”, not entirely insignificant). But it is not the beginning of the terrorist attack, played out in agonizing real time, which has been announced with brief foresight since the first episode, something like memories that have been steered in the wrong direction.

Rather, it was the cute, frightened girl Marie (Viola Martinsen) who was to blame for the rattling, who was spending her ninth birthday in the Svin's premises that evening because her single mother Louise (Filippa Suenson), who worked as a waitress, was opening the restaurant by the up to then not very empathic cook and owner Nikolaj (Peter Christoffersen) had to help out. Marie was trying to get a biscuit in the pantry, had stacked two boxes and lost her balance.

This is a remarkable idea in the book by Ida Maria Rydén, Dorte W. Høgh and Astrid Øye, not only because a moment later - Marie is now, surprisingly for herself, sitting in front of a birthday cake in the restaurant and thus in the line of fire - so much gets out of balance, but because the dramaturgy itself comments (slightly ironic) in it, because the narration of a series is very seldom so masterfully balanced as in the present case.

Nothing falls narrative here.

From the middle of society

With a lot of time and care, the ten episodes portray everyday life in the midst of society. It is a world in which it is easy to live and which also knows loneliness, lack of money, disappointed love and professional hardship. The act of violence in the fifth episode does not negate what is being narrated, but rather lifts it out of its self-sufficiency, as if the panorama from then on balanced on the tip of a nail, always ready to tilt to one side - the dark one at first. However, the opposing forces gradually gain weight. The series makers are only interested in terror in its hinge function, i.e. with regard to the victims, including those who wander around among the dead after the attack and look for relatives. This renunciation of any perpetrator centering is beneficial. It is indeed determined thatIt is also about motives and prejudices (was it Islamism? a rampage? right-wing terror?), but this dimension never comes to the fore.

Rather, it tells what the life of eight protagonists and their relatives looks like before and after the attack, and this is so interesting that the fascination does not let up for a second. The fantastic actors play a part in this, as does the intense directing by Milad Alami, Iram Haq and Jeanette Nordahl. We see and believe how closely intertwined the biographies are in a habitat like Copenhagen. Rydén and Høgh said at the Cologne Film Festival last autumn that the idea of ​​the terrorist attack was added to this butterfly effect plot later: as a maximum shock to the normal state. "When the silence comes" is one of the most honest, most relevant and well-watched series of the past few years, which achieved a sensational market share of 42 percent in Denmark.