All is not lost in “Breisgau”.
There is definitely drama.
For example, a teddy whizzes through the air, which of course is more than just a teddy: a furry projectile in the mothers' war.
How Thekla, the poker-wielding adoptive mother from the upper middle class (Kathrin von Steinburg), escapes the biological mother Sunny (Tinka Fürst), who has been released from prison after six years and is desperately fighting for her child, is one of the brasigen's rare waking moments Crime jokes in front of autumnal photo wallpaper.
Both mothers, the noble and the brute, can be understood.
Your conflict is insoluble.
And chalk circles are not known in Breisgau.
A dialogue is funny, but only one
There's even a witty line of dialogue.
The template is provided by the invalid ex-policeman Daniel Danzeisen (Rüdiger Klink), who years ago wanted to protect Sunny from her freaking husband Klette (Ludwig Trepte), but was shot down by her in cold blood.
Today he runs the "Bullenstall", the restaurant that is a must for every smiley thriller, like the "Gasthof Aubach" in Hengasch or the "Wirtshaus Wolfinger" in Niederkaltenkirchen, and is now suspected of the brutal attack on the said Lumbeseggl, ie Klette.
When the investigator walking with a stick a.
D. the head of the commissariat, his cousin Dorothea - Johanna Gastdorf plays the patriarch of the Danzeisen clan in the expected matronly way - explains his alibi, which, huihui, includes a young bar worker: "I spend some nights at Trixie's.
On the couch.
We've become friends," the boss replied dryly: "You and the sofa?" That's quick-witted.
But that was obviously the end of the powder;
the rest of the film dialogue drags itself heavy-legged through coquettish, awkwardly told provincial gossip.
The brisk pilot episode penned by the same team of authors (Andreas Heckmann and Michael Vershinin) scored with the character constellation.
The young Rostock policewoman Tanja Wilken (Katharina Nesytowa) decided to apply to pretty Freiburg im Breisgau with a dart throw.
She was enthusiastically received, especially by the dapper inspector Dennis Danzeisen (Joscha Kiefer), but had to realize with surprise that the Danzeisens had more to offer than snow on the Feldberg: They occupy half the Freiburg office, an unparalleled nepotism.
Wilken brushed off the awkward compliance officer (Sebastian Löwe), but the fact that her distrust of her new colleagues grew as quickly as her familiarity with them was refreshing and a small variation on the strained motif of big-city commissioner meets whimsical provincial sheriffs.
Thomas Jauch's direction actually gave the characters something mysterious, a hint of "Sopranos" so to speak (just as much as German blue-light television allows), even if the plot about a rapper's diamond teeth already seemed forced to be humorous.
In the new episode (director: Thomas Durchschlag) the secret of the Danzeisens becomes an almost sleazy cliché: the Bobbele mafia, as we see, is corrupt in the name of good.
Fake art by police artist Doreen Danzeisen (Julika Jenkins) is sold to anonymously support the poor;
Just take and give.
All of the tension between the characters was wasted.
Who would be against benefactors?
That doesn't change because the film, which generates its gags from this tension, stubbornly maintains them.
The fact that a ruinously silly art thief (Christian Heller), whose performance advertises the great Augustinian Museum in Freiburg, is set up as an opponent is so poorly conceived and so tiredly staged that
that despite sentences like "This is our city" or "From now on it's personal" there can't even be talk of a godfather film parody.
Klette, found half dead on the Dreisam, has something to do with this jocus-pocus, as does small-time crook Zühlke (Gerdy Zint).
Not only Johanna Gastdorf seems underchallenged by her stupid role, hardly anyone here plays with full commitment.
Only the covert romance between Dennis and Tanja is rudimentarily appealing, assuming that you recognize the latter at all, since her hair has grown significantly longer pretty quickly.
On the other hand, Uncle Daniel now lacks the mustache that defines him.
There's not much continuity with the Schwarzwaldhut anyway: the protagonist sneaks into the bull stall under cover of darkness, but she's hardly inside when the midday sun shines through the window.
Such a ramshackle format, which one would rather place in the 1980s in terms of subtlety, can probably only be explained by public-service thigh-slapping federalism: every region that desires more screen presence
is allowed to market itself as a cute and curious pigsty next door, in this case target group-specific for all Dreiländereckseggls, where even a scrap of dialect like "Isch g'reglt" or a dream view from the Schlossberg to the sun-kissed Bächlekaff leads to a pleasant doze.
Everyone else will probably only stick around if they are very intimate friends with their sofa.
Breisgau – taking and giving
is on ZDF today at 8:15 p.m.