From the ice-cold northern climes, we travel south for this most noir of noirs, from Serbia.
Black Wedding, from co-creators Nemanja Ćipranić and Strahinja Madžarević, packs a heavy punch (Ćipranić by a real-life massacre). A series in ten parts, it is not for the weak of stomach, but even the squeamish among us will want to push through the violence of the first episode to unravel this mystery. The first few episodes leave a trail of crumbs we are determined to follow before all is revealed.
While there is a lot handed to us to take in, it’s presented in a way that’s weirdly gentle. Perhaps that seems like an incongruous word for this genre. But it’s the sound design and corresponding camera work that do it. Following a haunting, adagio-like tempo, it slows the heart-rate down as it delivers more mysteries. The absence of the wall of noise and jolty filming that might be expected with a story like this feels like something to be thankful for. It goes easy on the senses while challenging the heart and soul.
Slavko Štimac as Mitar in ‘Black Wedding’. Source: Firefly Productions
We begin in a small village in the east of the country where one day, Mitar, a quiet villager – not the happiest fellow, it’s safe to say; in fact, we’re driven to feel sympathy for him when we first encounter him – loads his rifle and shoots his wife and mother-in-law before leaving the house and shooting another nine people.
We’re then in Belgrade, the country’s capital, where we meet scruffy Petar Ćirić (Uliks Fehmiu, Ustanička Ulica), waking stiffly on a chair in his living room. Ćirić is the intelligence service officer choppered into the village to negotiate with Mitar (Slavko Štimac, Life is a Miracle), who’s paused his massacre and taken a young woman hostage.
Uliks Fehmiu as Petar Ćirić in ‘Black Wedding’. Source: Firefly Productions
While in Belgrade, we also meet Nataša (Jelena Djokić), a psychologist who’s defending women’s right to abortion on a live TV forum. We know we’ll return to her, especially after we see her taking a risqué risk in the ad break.
We then rewind to 1976 Yugoslavia, to hear radio commentator Milovan (Filip Djurić) call a football match. Why has he been brought into the story?
Jelena Djokić as Nataša in ‘Black Wedding’. Source: Firefly Productions
And then, back in the modern day, in another rural setting, we meet an Orthodox priest (Toni Mihajlovski), who, when he hears of the village massacre, hops a bus to Belgrade and begins to follow Nataša, our psychologist.
See? Crumbs are strewn all over the place. The intrigue is truly gripping, carried by outstanding performances from the cast of experienced and award-winning actors. 
There is something about Black Wedding that compels even those who might normally not persist to keep watching. Perhaps it’s how unfamiliar this landscape is to our Nordic noir-trained eyes. Perhaps it’s the strangeness of modern-day Belgrade – incidentally, a smoker’s paradise – a city crammed with Communist-era buildings where shiny 21st century skyscrapers have shouldered their way in, regardless of how out of place they look, a city over which the enormous Orthodox cathedral looms, providing architectural softness and an invitation to solace.
One hint we’re given is of a supernatural undercurrent. A witness to Mitar’s violence was his soft-hearted friend, who’s whisked away to the city to give testimony to the two investigators, Tomić (Nikola Kojo) and Blagojević (Nebojša Milovanović). Petar is there, too. He quietly takes up residence on the case, albeit on the periphery as decided by Tomić, who has some beef with him from their shared war days that Petar can’t recall. Tomić relishes being the alpha male and treats the witness roughly, dismissing him as a peasant when he brings up the village witch who Mitar spared in his killing spree.
We begin to learn about the characters’ pasts, which are deeply troubled for most of them, as to be expected from a citizenry so recently affected by war. We are lured in by the villagers’ beliefs in black magic, still alive and well. We want to understand why Mitar did what he did. We want Petar to have a shower and brush his teeth, maybe shave. We want Inspector Tomić to access his feminine side every now and then. We are eager to figure out what the show’s title Black Wedding refers to. We want to know what happened to radio man Milovan, and how and why (another crumb dropped in episode 2).
Milovan (Filip Djurić). Source: Firefly Productions
Inspector Tomić (Nikola Kojo). Source: Firefly Productions
Petar (Uliks Fehmiu) on the case. Source: Firefly Productions
And we want more from the juicy creative minds of Serbia, please. This one is quite the memorable entrée.
