Neither romantic, dramatic nor funny.
«Lying – the art of getting over your ex» («Lying – the art of getting over your ex»)
Swedish drama comedy in eight episodes
Premiere at Discovery + December 25th
Script and direction: Lina Åström
With: Ulrikke Falch, Clara Henry, Amy Deasismont, Dilan Apak, Rebecka Hemse, Tina Pour Davoy, Ulla Skoog
Line (Falch) has been dumped after a short but intense romance with Julia (Pour Davoy). She is devastated, but Elin (Henry), with whom she lives, knows advice:
The best way to eliminate love grief is to put it away. Have sex as often, and with as many people, as possible. Elin sets up a profile on a dating app and gets started. She arranges dates with as many women as Line has time to slip in between shifts at the burger restaurant.
Line, a daft and self-pitying human being, is thrown into it. But there is one ork to meet new people and sleep with them all the time. It has countless TV series have taught us in the past.
The dates are small, although they in and of themselves occasionally bear fruit. “I just have to …” and “I have to pee”, Line apologizes. Sometimes she tells idiotic lies that have to land her in the most embarrassing kind of trouble. Like she speaks French, or her mother has cancer.
“Lie”, a kind of immature Scandinavian generation Z answer to “The ‘L’ Word”, is characterized by the fact that it is produced on a minimal budget and during a pandemic.
I would think that the city our heroine is in is Stockholm, but the exteriors are so few and not telling that it is difficult to feel safe. The clubs and restaurants Line and her dates frequent, seem empty and vacuum-packed. The universe the series is trying to establish, is completely devoid of oxygen.
We learn that Line has a mother from Oslo and a father from Borås, and that she has studied to become a sociologist. But “Lying” does No try to tell us who the other people in it are. Not the women Line is dating. Not Elin, with whom she lives. Not Julia, her great love.
Instead, it wastes half an episode on a completely nonsensical discussion about why it’s called “MILF” and not “MILTF.” You can drop the six episodes in the middle, without missing anything significant.
Ulrikke Falch is anemic to the point of annoying in the lead role, and especially powerless when the dialogues want her to be funny. Clara Henry gets better from it – despite the fact that screenwriter and director Lina Åström has forgotten to write a role for her.
A Scandinavian series for young people and young adults about girls who like girls is not a stupid idea on paper. But that “Lie” was allowed to take the step from the paper to the screen is a mystery.
The reviewer has seen the entire series