When the Nirbhaya case happened in New Delhi and a 17-year-old kid was found to be one of the accused, questions were raised about whether our laws should be harsher on juveniles. After spending 3 years in prison, he was rehabilitated, and, right now, he’s out there, living amongst us. All this shook our conscience for a while, and then we went back to living our lives, ignoring the rise in hate crimes and sex crimes because they were limited to the lower and middle classes of society. Then the pandemic happened, and the upper class realized that their kids were micro-dosing on “red pill” content emerging from the “manosphere,” which was teaching them that feminism is the greatest evil that humanity has ever seen. Crimes against women in posh environments finally came under the spotlight, with the “Bois Locker Room” case sending shivers down the spines of anyone with a soul. However, instead of inspiring introspection, there was a concerted effort to brush it all under the rug because it reflected poorly on the parents that brought such monsters into this world. Adolescence reopened that can of worms, and Secrets We Keep intends to dig further into it.
Ingeborg Topsoe’s Secrets We Keep (its Danish title is Reservatet), written by Ina Bruhn and Mads Tafdrup, with the episodes being directed by Per Fly, tells the story of Cecilie, a working woman who is a mother of two, Viggo and Vera, and the wife of a high-profile lawyer, Mike. They live in one of the most affluent neighborhoods in Copenhagen, and their neighbors are Mike’s boss, Rasmus, his wife, Katarina, and their son, Oscar. Both of these families have Filipino au pairs, Angel and Ruby, and on the surface, it seems that they share an amicable relationship with their respective host families. One night, though, when Rasmus’ family comes to Mike’s house for dinner, Ruby approaches Cecilie to tell her that she has been facing some issues working for Rasmus. Cecilie says that it’s not her place to speak, and that it’d be better if Ruby just talks to Katarina. The following day, Ruby is nowhere to be found, and it seems like the Filipino community and Cecilie are the only ones concerned about her disappearance, while Ruby’s employers are oddly chill about it. Police officer Aicha is assigned to this case, and although Cecilie is reluctant to cooperate with her, she soon starts helping her because everything about this incident seems fishy.
The three main topics that Secrets We Keep touches on are bad parenting, grotesque online chat rooms run by boys, and immigrants. Let’s start with parenting first because, oh my god, one of the families (I’m not revealing which one for the sake of spoilers) almost made me punch a hole through the wall because of how heinous they are. I won’t claim that, back in the day, parents always reprimanded their kids for the slightest of mistakes. But it seems like the ratio of those who hold their kids accountable to those who give them a free pass, regardless of the severity of their actions, is getting skewed. When I was as old as Viggo and Oscar, there were probably 2-3 parents who came to the defense of their kids while the rest refused to stand by their own children, thereby imparting an important lesson on facing consequences. Nowadays, every parent, especially if the kid in question is a boy, is ready to put their body on the line because they see their child as an investment whose image can’t be tarnished. It doesn’t matter to them if they are raising a bloody demon as long as they have someone else to put the blame on for their son’s behavior. And the worst part of this phenomenon, which is aptly highlighted by the miniseries, is that mothers are throwing girls and women under the bus just to protect their precious princes.
Coming to said “precious princes,” Secrets We Keep shows how casual it has become, or maybe always has been, for boys to sexualize the women around them. A few years ago, the threat of the “digital footprint” used to keep these juvenile criminals from advertising their despicable thoughts online. But, I guess, after listening to Jordan Peterson, Andrew Tate, Sneako, Carryminati, Elvish Yadav, and all those who are unafraid to put their deplorable thoughts out on full volume so that they can be unquestioningly consumed by impressionable minds, kids have been emulating that behavior in comment sections, chat rooms, and in the real world. And since the law and society in general do not see this as a pandemic that needs to be cured, this disease of misogyny continues to grow. The writers of the miniseries acknowledge that the women that belong to the same economic strata as these criminals are being targeted; those from the lower classes, specifically immigrants, have it the worst. That’s because they not only have more to lose by speaking up, but also since modern-day feminist movements tend to exclude those who are impoverished. So, while you’ll see someone like Cecilie taking pride in the fact that she can hire an au pair and become a working mother, when they’ll need to show solidarity with said au pair, that act will come with a few terms and conditions.
While the topics that are brought up in Secrets We Keep are eerily relevant, their exploration leaves much to be desired, especially when it comes to the dialogue. Where a miniseries like Adolescence follows every conversation to its emotional or logical conclusion, the writers of this Danish crime drama consistently end every interaction just when it starts to peak. Since that happens repeatedly, it’s possible that it’s intentional. Maybe they’re trying to show how the upper class, despite all their opulence and power, are unable to confront their own family members when they commit nauseating crimes. Another problem that the miniseries runs into, and this is a very common issue when it comes to Scandinavian noir, is that it reserves the meat of the plot for its last two episodes. So, you have this space in between the first episode and the finale, which is filled with picturesque shots and mildly provocative moments, and nothing much else. There were ample opportunities to dig deeper into the lives of the police officers and the Filipino community, thereby giving Sara Fanta Traore and Excel Busano more to do. However, the focus largely remains on Marie Bach Hansen, Simon Sears, Danica Curcic (who is exquisitely diabolical), and Lars Ranthe. Lukas Zuperka and Frode Bilde Ronsholt make do with the material they’re given. The rest of the supporting cast is great. I just wish all of these talented people were given some truly memorable scenes to shine.
Despite my criticisms, I think Secrets We Keep is essential viewing for all. It makes for a fantastic companion piece to Adolescence. And if you have the courage to watch them on Netflix back-to-back, I feel that you’ll lose the will to start a family. Because what the hell has humanity become? We can’t even condemn rape without bringing up the circumstances under which it happened, the events that led to it, and the politics around it? We always look to the police and lawyers to make things right, but are we, the general public, doing anything to fix our society? What’s troubling is that we’ve gone so far past the point of no return that systemic overhauls, rehabilitation, and therapy seem like sick jokes. The solution that is at our disposal—if we want to solve things at all, that is—is incredibly tough, i.e., the global implementation of South Korea’s 4B movement. As long as men don’t learn to act like sane-minded human beings, and as long as women don’t stop endorsing the behavior of such insane men, this world will keep descending into chaos and mayhem until there’s nothing left to be saved.
