Furia ★★★½

SBS, Wednesday, 11.05pm and On Demand

The Danes and the Swedes might’ve pioneered the path for the global sensation that’s become known as Scandi Noir or Nordic Noir with The Killing and The Bridge, but the subsequent push from Norway, Finland and Iceland has made a significant impact in that now-crowded field.

Many of the crime dramas from that part of the world display characteristics that would be familiar to fans of the genre. They often start with someone frantically running through a forest and then flash back a number of days or weeks to the events that led them there. They favour sweeping aerial drone shots over pristine rivers that run between rugged mountains, and over the isolated yet telegenic towns nestled amid them. At some point in the first episode, there’s the discovery of a body, usually in a forest or beside a river. Lone cars driven by dogged detectives in pursuit of information repeatedly speed down winding roads amid vast, wild and windswept landscapes. And while the British law enforcers tend to drink lot of tea in the process of their interviews and investigations, their Nordic neighbours down copious quantities of kaffe.

This suspenseful eight-part Norwegian crime thriller has all of those characteristics. But, in addition, Furia has a sharp political edge and sets up strongly in the opener, deftly establishing a number of potentially meaty plotlines involving its dual protagonists. Widowed detective and single father Asgeir Eng (Pal Sverre Hagen) is introduced with his seven-year-old daughter, Michelle (Isabella Beatrice Lunda), en route to his new posting in the remote and picturesque the town of Trollheim. And it’s clear from the gun concealed within ready reach in the car that he’s a man alert to the threat of attack.

Asgeir quickly finds his services required when he’s called to the local refugee centre, which has been the target of a graffiti attack. There are obviously tensions in the town and anti-Muslim sentiments, although the local police chief, Siem (Henrik Mestad), is keen to talk up the area’s attributes. In particular he notes initiatives towards revitalisation by two brothers whose company, Vestvik, has capitalised on the region’s natural beauty to foster a healthy tourist trade. He dismisses the graffiti as the work of wayward teens unduly influenced by “anti-social media”.

When the body of a local teenager is discovered – yes, by the river – Siem looks to his new recruit for assistance: Asgeir has arrived at his new post with a personnel file that’s largely classified, suggesting his involvement in law-enforcement activities at a level beyond vandalism and petty theft.

Interwoven with Asgeir’s story is that of Ragna (Ine Marie Wilmann), the motorcycle-riding cook for the families that own Vestvik. She provides the link to the series’ title with a definition at the outset explaining that Furia, or the Furies, are female deities in Greek mythology who rise from the underworld to punish those who have sworn a false oath. In the drama created and co-written by Gjermund Stenberg Eriksen, Furia is also the nom-de-plume adopted by an extremist right-wing blogger. Her voice is intermittently heard as narration as she identifies the fear produced by troubled times and a widespread concern about the future. She advocates the need for moves to protect Christian culture from what is perceived as a rising threat.