In a town buried deep in the Austrian Alps, death is not the end — it’s the beginning of secrets unravelling, vengeance unfolding, and corpses whispering their truths.
Long after I had watched Woman of the Dead (WOTD), I couldn’t get the images of the majestic, yet harsh terrain of the Alps, talking cadavers, a state-of the art ski resort in a heavily snowed-in valley, dead people, and motorcycling on smooth roads through craggy mountains and deep valley wouldn’t leave my mind.
I found the Netflix series fascinating for several reasons. Set in Tirol, Austria, the story of a funeral director in a small ski resort town forages some well-hidden secrets of the little town, where her husband is killed right in front of her. Often small-town mysteries are dense with eccentric characters, but here the quirkiest character is the funeral director herself. Yes, it is a woman, who dresses, undresses, cuts, trims, styles corpses to make them fit for coffins, and presentable to humans and God! More details later.
The backdrop is perfect for the story of an undertaker — the harsh Tyrolean Alps, with their unforgiving terrain and cold, permanent snow, mirror the grim and dispassionate work of the undertaker, casting a chilling atmosphere over the series. Secondly, upon discovering the undertaker was a woman, my mind reeled with a mix of intrigue and disbelief. The idea of anyone handling the cold, unnerving reality of death, especially a woman, struck me as both eerie and unsettling. [Especially when she imagines, the corpses are talking to her!] Her grim profession, a stark contrast to my own sensibilities, felt deeply unnatural, almost defying the typical roles I had imagined. And thirdly, the character of the undertaker Brunhilde Blum who is known around town as “Blum”, played by Anna Maria Mühe, who is outstanding in her three-pronged role as a wife seeking revenge, and a wanna-be sleuth who has great instinct a knack for unravelling secrets. As she probes deeper into the case, she gets into increasingly dangerous situations. Being a mortician, she knows how to cover up murders, and who can dispose of dead bodies better than her!
Mühe is an award-winning German actress, with a long list of films to her credit. Blum’s role as an undertaker must have intrigued her, as she is known for picking roles that involve strong, complex characters, for which she has received accolades for her performances in films like "Big Girls Don't Cry" and "Love in Thoughts".
It was this combination of factors: the engaging revenge plot, strong female lead, awe-inspiring cinematography, and captivating atmosphere that keeps you glued to the screen. Most of all the quirky blend of crime drama with dark humour, held me through the two seasons.
Based on the novel Totenfrau, by Bernhard Aichner, the series kicks off with a tranquil visual of a sailboat on the open sea. A woman wearing headphones is listening to an old iPod as she lies sunbathing on the bow. Ah, you instantly sniff trouble. It is the peaceful scene that tempts fate. Two seconds later, people are screaming for help. The visual flashes a few times in the series, at least in the first season for sure, until you begin to tie up that incident with other developments that happen later.
WOTD could be a run-of-the-mill, straight forward thriller, if it wasn’t for Blum’s layered character, her backstory, and the dark edge of the show which gives it an edge over the long list of thrillers on the streamer these days, most of them around missing girls, which is what seems to be Netflix’s quickest go-to idea for crime-thriller genre.
Imagine the scene where Brunhilde Blum is doing routine stuff around her funeral parlour, in her tiny mountain town. Her assistant, Reza Shadid (Yousef Sweid) tells her that the family of the person she’s working on has purchased a standard sized casket that was too small, it doesn’t bother Blum in the least. With the ease and impassiveness that a cook adds more salt to a pan on the stove, Blum whips out her bone saw and chops one foot after another off the cadaver so it can fit in the casket. Does it make you shudder or do you totally freak out? This may not be a spoiler, maybe I just made it up!
Yousef Sweid, who plays Reza Shadid, brings a compelling presence to the screen. His mysterious eyes and stoic demeanour are a perfect fit for the character, who serves as Blum's confidant, combat trainer, and protector. Reza, a Syrian refugee taken in by Mark, secretly helps Brünhilde on her quest for justice, saving her life and meticulously concealing the murders she commits. However, an error in covering up the Puch murder ultimately leads to an investigation into Blum, putting their shared secret at risk. The choice to make Reza a Syrian refugee adds a crucial layer of social and political context to the story, highlighting themes of displacement and survival that resonate deeply with the character's mysterious actions.
Blum’s husband Mark Thaler (Maiximilian Kraus), is a local cop, but her relationship with Mark is wrapped up in the tragedy that killed her parents, so there’s all sorts of implications in his death. When he returns from a trip, Blum sees him talking on a yellow phone she’s never seen. When she points out the new phone, he just says he bought a new case. As he gets on his Ducati to go to work, he’s hit as he turns out onto the road, and the Range Rover that hit him drives away after pausing only for a minute, which is just enough to create intrigue and curiosity. While Blum is reeling with shock, you too are gaping at the screen wondering what just happened!
Before going any further, let’s pause to dwell a bit on the dark, cold, and silent world of undertakers, a profession not specifically seen in our part of the world. This is where Blum’s character transports us to. Also known funeral directors or morticians, these professionals handle the practical and emotional aspects of funeral arrangements. They assist families in planning and organising memorial services, ensure the deceased are cared for with dignity, and provide support during a difficult time.
As seen in films and series depicting Western culture, undertakers help families choose a venue, coordinate with clergy or celebrants, and arrange for transportation of the deceased and attendees, similar to the work of ent planners. The difference is an environment of hushed tones, soft lighting, and a certain stillness.
In their prep room, the clinical, dispassionate work of embalming, dressing, and preparing the body for viewing takes place. With scientific precision and methodical care, an undertaker focusses on restoring dignity to the deceased and prepare them for viewing. This may include embalming, dressing, and preparing the body for viewing or cremation, which may not be done for every dead person, as embalming is typically only done if viewing or visitation with the body is involved before burial or cremation. For instance, the bodies of presidents and celebrities are typically embalmed for public viewings, and behind the flowers, wreathes and crowds or queues of people at funerals and memorial services, an undertaker has diligently been fulfilling the grim duties around the dead.
To become an undertaker, also known as a funeral director or mortician, one typically needs to complete formal education in mortuary science, followed by an apprenticeship and state licensure. This path involves studying the technical and business aspects of the funeral service industry, gaining practical experience, and meeting specific state requirements.
Are there women undertakers? Yes, for instance, Austria’s 528 undertakers, often work for family businesses. They have a broad spectrum of knowledge, ranging from local social practices and symbols to individual design options, in order to accompany the bereaved in the best possible way during their time of mourning. These include, for example, covering the coffin with a white cloth, setting up incense and charcoal, and not ringing bells at Buddhist funerals. The undertakers’ knowledge also encompasses the preparation of the possibilities for the deceased person’s final place of rest. Sharing and accompanying a person’s last journey has an important social and communal meaning for the bereaved and the undertakers play an important role in this. Their support also extends to continuously dealing with death as part of human life.
Knowledge about funeral and cemetery culture is passed on from one person to the next. There are several additional components which contribute to the safeguarding and expansion of knowledge, including training opportunities like the undertakers' academy, further training, frequent regulars' meetings and exchange between the federal provinces and specialist group meetings, and museums. They also have an association and their own specialist newspaper.
While the funeral industry has traditionally been male-dominated, the proportion of women working in the field is increasing. In Austria, around 36 percent of those employed in the funeral sector are female, according to a report from Kronen Zeitung, Austria’s largest newspaper.
Coming back to the series, full marks to the writer for the series' unique premise, featuring a woman as an undertaker. It's a truly compelling and original idea. No wonder, the two seasons were lapped up by audiences. After three years, the second season of the series, originally in German-language, returned with more secrets to expose and mysteries to uncover. If you thought it couldn’t be better than the first season, you are wrong, because the second season gave the first a run for its money.
Blum, the central character takes the story forward. It’s now been two years since the events of the first season where she lost her husband. If you thought Blum had solved all mysteries and exposed all the ugly secrets of the little town, and would now live a peaceful life with her daughter, Nela (Emilia Pieske), you were wrong again. Having even more enemies, in the police and on the local scene now, this time she has to tackle Nela’s kidnapping.
While season 1 was directed by Barbara Albert and Stefan Ruzowitzky, the second season was directed by Daniel Prochaska and written by Marcel Kawental and Timo Lombeck, building on the strengths of the first, and adding new layers of complexity and darkness. However there are parts where you feel that the season 1 was tighter and more focused, but season 2 went wider in its narrative exploring human trafficking and snuff films. It is also being described as darker and more threatening. But that said, both seasons offer gripping storylines, powerful performances, and intense mystery, redeeming the few minor flaws.
Both seasons are bingeworthy, the cinematography of the Alpine region simply spectacular. It surely points at a third season being produced. Will you dare to return to Blum’s cold, gritty and grim world again?