I viewed the first three episodes to determine where my friend was coming from but could not understand how the protagonist was reminiscent of me.
I noted that the character is a bit of a maverick, somewhat taciturn, a creative thinker, suspicious of authority, and a little gruff and rough around the edges; however, this applies to a thousand other fictional characters.
At no point did I experience an Aristotelean “Ah, that is he” flash of recognition or discernment while watching the series.
Utterly puzzled, I contacted my friend. His response?
The character's hat and jacket resemble the kind I used to wear when I lived in Canada.
That’s it.
I spent three hours intensely studying the protagonist of an incredibly disjointed, dark, gloomy, disturbing, Silence of the Lambs-type serial killer series to learn that the only thing I had in common with Detective Forst was the hat and jacket I used to wear.