Shame

Forever late to the party, and desperate for procrastination material, last weekend I discovered ‘Skam’¹. This is an apparently cult classic teen drama made by NRK in Norway from 2015–17. It attempts to portray the lives of teenagers in a school in Oslo as they go through their lives by following a character for a series as they battle against some hardship in their lives.

So far, this description makes it sound altogether quite dull, and this was what I thought when I stumbled across clips from it and looked up what was going on. It does have an interesting quirk in how it was broadcast: entirely online and in ‘real time’ segments such that each one is timestamped and was released to coincide with that time in reality, and then all the segments for the week stitched together and shown as a more traditional programme. This is not the reason it managed to achieve international acclaim despite being available in only Norwegian without any other subtitled languages; although it is something which would be good to see the BBC try in its everpresent desire to beat the Netflix behemoth.

The reality is that ‘Skam’ did something quite special in its third series, following the character of Isak as he navigates the conflict between his perception of himself (not good) and his unwanted feelings towards the older, somewhat aethereal and difficult to pin down Even. It does this so well, it’s actually uncomfortable, but in contrast to most fiction in this genre, it ends well for all involved once it has finished twisting and turning like a twisty turny thing.

You see, every person is an island. The only bridge to others is through words. As long as we don’t talk to each other, we end up becoming lonely little islands that are high on pills, just like Ibiza. Do you get what I’m saying? You can’t keep isolating yourself. Everything is harder on your own.

Doctor Skrulle — Skam (S03E06)

Isak has to go through a lot in a short space of time, doing several things which are clearly a very bad idea at the time but also eminently reasonable given he is a 17 year old just coming to terms with his sexuality having been forced to leave home due to his mother’s mental health problems. He learns that he can trust others, even those who have let him down in the past. He learns that the best he can do is good enough for those around him, if he is honest with them. He learns to live for the short term if the long term seems too daunting.

These lessons are learnt in such a way that at the end of episode nine, we get the denouément of Isak’s realisation of his role in the world set against a Norwegian translation of ‘O Holy Night’ which had me reduced to tears.

When everything seems hopeless just take one day at a time. And if one day becomes too much, just take one hour at a time. And if one hour becomes too much, then just take one minute at a time.

Sonja — Skam (S03E10)

On paper, it sounds like ‘just another coming out story’, which in reality it is. ‘Skam’ succeeds where others don’t because the characters are realistically flawed in such a universal way. It’s so transferrable that the show has been or is being remade in seven different countries. The first of these remakes, ‘Skam France’, reuses the story of Isak and Even in places word-for-word, with the names and situations changed to suit being set in Paris, for Lucas and Elliot.

‘Skam France’ has the same prototype characters, the same story arcs (apart from the addition of the infamous paint scene), the same twists, albeit a lot more skin and a lot less knitwear, because France. It also has a significantly more diverse cast, which is more a reflection in the difference in demographics of the countries.

Lucas is Isak, with little adjustment of his motivations but thankfully less of a propensity for wearing baseball caps. He never seems out of place in his environment and has been extremely well accepted by the French. Consequently, it seems there was nothing fundmentally Scandinavian about the original. It never feels like it doesn’t fit in its little slice of Oslo — it has won awards for representing Norwegian culture outside of Norway.

That a story can be told in two different places, similar and yet different, speaks to the transferable nature of the human experience. Though we may not understand all of the context, for example a lot seems to happen at Wednesday lunchtimes in ‘Skam France’ and what actually is a ‘Kosegruppa’ and nobody ever seems to turn up to their lessons and how on earth are they having so many parties, the people behind the stories can be seen in our everyday lives or in ourselves. I see myself in Isak and Even, and Lucas and Elliot, and Magnus, and Yann, and Eskild, and Vilde, and it all plays out in a fascinating interplay of moving pieces, even though time sometimes pauses just to emphasise the moment. We move minute by minute, minutt for minutt, minute par minute, through life, and we can use those minutes wisely, or get swept along in the flood.