Copenhagen Cowboy

The first two episodes require patience, however once you are into the story Copenhagen cowboy is something new and engaging.

The colours and scenery are beautiful in a harsh environment. It's slow - sometimes very slow - but once you enter the meditative state it makes perfect sense.

It's also a huge contrast between the main role - an alien like altruistic girl vs killers, gangsters and hedonists.

Copenhagen cowboy do have som references to films like Hannibal (brutality and pigs eating people dead or alive), Drive (colours, music and scenery) and David Lynch in general, including the ufo theme from the last tween peaks series. That said, this series adds something new to the table and is a positive surprise. Netflix really tries to be creative and innovative. Kudos.

The direction of photography does an excellent job with the lighting of the scenes .. Some of the viewers may find it to heavy for the eyes , too much neon , but this plays a role in these scenes...The evolving of the story of a young girl spinning round the ugly world of drugs and human trafficing , is slow , but on the other hand the emotions you get while watching the episodes fullfills the viewer.

I was too sceptic about starting the series , it is a sad story that comes from the darkest places of our world... As an amateur photographer i saw a lot of things coming out the viewfinder of the camera , pay attention to the static scenes , on a single face , or a wide plan with a lot of people ..like time freezes for a while.

A fascinating production that requires some perseverance by the viewer. Be prepared for a very meticulously filmed story that takes some time to more or less fully understand. The pace is slow in every aspect: in dialogue, in plot development and in cinematography. Acting is very minimalistic and retained and melts beautifully with the way scenes are filmed. The story has as much importance as the visual experience.

This series is definitely not for the impatient ones who expect an easy to swallow, quickly paced story. However, if you're ready to have some patience, are able to accept that not everything will ever become fully clear and are open to this kind of cinema, this may just be right for you. A gem in Netflix productions.

It's great, and rare, to be presented with a TV show that leaves you wondering for hours and days afterwards if it's any good. This is something to be cherished, especially in an entertainment world chock full of formulaic drabness built on algorithms, fan service and commercialism.

Copenhagen Cowboy (a terrible title to be fair), even more than Refn's divisive Only God Forgives, is a death dream with a very loose narrative woven together with a smorgasbord of ideas and styles inspired by the mysticism and folklore from multiple cultures. It's a dizzying and head-scratching six episodes to which it's pointless to try to ascribe too much plot or even thematic analysis. Some will argue that there's just not enough going on to justify any sort of runtime longer than 90mins but the fact is that anyone who hates this is a series would hate it just as much as a movie.

It's at points breathtaking to behold, and utterly infuriating at others. The reliance on specific shots - static camera, 360-degree pans, slow zoom - is highly effective at points and annoying at others - but everything is calculated to build maximum tension and suspense, and serves to really bring the few scenes that aren't filmed in this way to the viewer's attention as being significant.

The technical brilliance in the direction, cinematography and score can't really be denied, even if it's not to your taste. Every actor is riveting, especially Angela Bundalovic who as the enigmatic Miu delivers a movingly minimalistic, affecting, and extraordinarily physical performance in spite of her diminutive size.

Love it or hate it, Copenhagen Cowboy is an experience. It's not style over substance - the substance is by and large the style itself, so if the style isn't for you then you'll certainly find yourself at sea. In coming to a conclusion of whether I liked it or not, I realised I could only think of a couple of people I'd recommend it to. And because those people are my favourite people who I trust the most, I figure it's something I definitely liked and enjoyed. Go make your own mind up...

Copenhagen Cowboy may be one of the most plodding shows ever put on Netflix, but as per usual for Nicolas Winding Refn (presenting his first Danish-speaking project since the Pusher films), there are both mystical and purely visual aspects to keep you transfixed.

As I noted in my review of Too Old to Die Young, this is not a director who simply points the lights and cameras at the actors and hits "record". This is a director who knows how to make a significant prop glow a hellish red in an otherwise purple frame; one who plans his outdoor shots so that the twilight has just the right shade and intensity; one who knows how to frame his actors so that the kaleidoscopic city behind them seems both dead and alive at the same time... Even among other directors who fancy neon-drenched '80s nostalgia and Neo-noir ambiance, Refn sticks out as an especially deliberate filmmaker.

What makes Copenhagen Cowboy particularly interesting is that it plays like an atonement for the directors' past machismo narratives (unintentionally or not, his various Gosling characters have become "Sigma Male" icons) and lack of female representation. Doubly fascinating is the lead herself, Angela Bundalovic as the mysterious and possibly undead Miu, who Jasper Rees (writing for The Telegraph) described as "an unsexualized androgyne exuding an enigmatic potency", and that, at every other turn, the camera seems to be trying to gaze into her soul -- to figure out just who or what she is.

His reading is that she may be a vampire, a sprite, or some sort of angel that (as she moves through the criminal underworld of Denmark, starting in a sex-slave den and ending up amongst corrupt lawyers and chauvinist millionaires) has been sent to avenge the female sex. He describes her enemies: "a Serbian pimp, a Chinese crime boss, a Danish lord of the manor who preaches the primal power of the cock to his murderous son."

I agree that Copenhagen Cowboy has a lot to chew on in terms of themes, even if the show as such can be a slog to watch. The boredom is, of course, alleviated by the visuals and music (and sometimes the humor, particularly when Refn himself appears and when Zlatko Buric converses with a celebrity guest I won't unveil here), but I understand if some viewers won't think it's worth it.

As for my more local -- Scandinavian -- papers, it seems Refn's return to the Nordic region isn't cause for too much celebration; verdicts have ranged from "sluggish as syrup" to complaints that it's nightmarish, nasty, brutal, and whatever else. One blogger wrote, "I don't think I've ever seen so many horrible people of so many different genders and cultural backgrounds doing horrible things". Of course, to me, that's rather like complaining that there are cars in the Fast and the Furious films.

There is one thing about Copenhagen Cowboy that unnerves me more than anything else, however, and it has to do with the pigs that keep appearing throughout the show. It's not that I have trouble figuring out the meaning of said hogs; what it is they either symbolize or poke fun at. Instead, my issue is this:

A few years ago, I decided to use the GTA V "Director Mode" to create a short film in the style of Nicolas Winding Refn (complete with synth-heavy music from Drive, Only God Forgives, The Neon Demon, and his The Wicked Die Young album). It was named Butcher vs. Pig-Man and told the story of a pig who escaped from its farm and -- since "animals are people too" -- grew up into a vengeful pig-man, played by one of the player characters in a pig mask and speaking entirely in pig noises.

And now, here's Nicolas Winding Refn, making a show that heavily features pigs and, yes, a pervy guy who speaks in pig squeals. I'm not saying Refn has seen my video (hardly anyone has), but this is a weirdly specific coincidence. I might've considered asking for royalties if the video wasn't full of unoriginal sh-t anyway.