What exactly is Miu? This is the central figurative and literal question posed by the penultimate episode of Copenhagen Cowboy. As a physical matter, we learn that she may not be human – that she survived the frigid cold as a child, that being breastfed killed the lady who breastfed her, and that her powers are not only real but sufficient to terrify an elderly mob lieutenant. But beyond that, she may operate as an avatar of retribution against the wicked, or even merely a Two-Face style toss of the coin, choosing the destiny of those close to her simply by existing in their proximity.
I assume your position will rely on what you believe Nicolas Winding Refn himself thinks about his violent protagonists. Throughout his career, he has simultaneously praised and condemned his vigilante protagonists and villains.
And Miu does not make things any easier for you. Clearly, her loyalty to Mother Hulda and her quest to save her daughter Ai (Emilie Xin Tong Han) are admirable, as is her innate disdain for all criminals and pimps. What are we to make of the manner in which she handles her former mentor Danny when he is shot by assassins during the ongoing gang war in Copenhagen? After murdering all the attackers, she steps on his damaged wrist till he succumbs to his wounds. Is this a mercy killing of some kind? Or is it punishment for his harsh treatment of her now that a gang war has broken out and blind devotion is more important than friendship? I can’t quite gauge its magnitude.
But there’s a lot of that floating around. I believed that when Miu stole the eight kilograms of cocaine she and Danny were charged with transporting and gave it to Mr. Chiang as payment for her debt, that would be the end of it, and she would spend the remainder of the series fighting the Danish mafia for this transgression. But we discover that Chiang is one of those renowned mob lords who eschews hard drug trafficking, and goes so far as to pour this sum in yayo down the toilet. The delivery only buys Miu some time; to purchase Ai’s freedom, she must now carry out Chiang’s orders and murder a guy.
This individual is Dusan (Slavko Labovic), Miroslav’s right-hand guy, bodyguard, and best buddy. Miu pays the old man a visit first, during which he becomes convinced that she is seeking vengeance against him. He ends up on his knees, professing regret for…whatever he did to her in the past, and begs her forgiveness and pleading with her not to curse him. She agrees not to but seeks an explanation of her origin. While kaleidoscopic images of her performing martial arts are displayed on-screen, Miroslav eventually delivers one.
The Gordon Willis-esque lighting of Miroslav’s office, Zlatko Buric’s pathetic, whole-body portrayal as Miroslav — at one point, the camera virtually descends to the floor with him — and the 100% pure and uncut NWR atmosphere of Miu’s psychedelic dance all contribute to the sequence’s brilliance.
And this leads to an additional sequence of exquisite images: Miu positioned like Norman Bates against the wings of a raptor; a Texas Chain Saw Massacre-style silhouette of Miu and Dusan against the sun, a composition repeated when Miu calls Miroslav to inform him of his friend’s death.
Still, there is more! The entire episode builds to a lengthy scenario in which scarred and crippled Nicklas tries to reanimate his magic-powered sister Rakel’s (Lola Corfixen) preserved corpse with their mother’s blood. The brilliance of this final scene is how opaque everything is. Nicklas never wields his sword against his mother, who bares her chest to him after lifting her skirt in the most openly incestuous erotic image the show has yet presented.
In actuality, the version of Nicklas brandishing the sword is whole and healthy, bathed in strange purple light rather than the mansion’s natural light. Yet his crippled self does really ooze blood down his blade into his sister’s mouth, and she does truly come back to life. So you tell me.
There’s still one hour to go in this series — or season? — and Miu still has a lot of business to attend to: Chiang, Miroslav, the gang war, Nicklas and his family, you name it. Even my favorite loose end, André, makes a cameo in this episode via the music video for his pop single. Given the relative simplicity of the plot and subject matter in comparison to Too Old to Die Young, The Neon Demon, and Only God Forgives, I do not anticipate any earth-shattering explosions. However, you know what? Fireworks are sufficient.
Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about television for Rolling Stone, Vulture, and The New York Times, among other publications. His family resides on Long Island.
»Gang War, Copenhagen Cowboy Episode 5 Recap«