Nisser shows a bunch of cheeky mythical creatures causing chaos in a small town. It’s got laughs, drama and some wild adventures. These Nisser try to blend in with humans but keep their secret life hidden. People love this show for its quirky mix of folklore and modern tales. It’s a fun ride!

Meet the characters from Nisser

Liv

Oh man, Liv is the one you just want to follow into whatever tiny disaster is happening — curious, stubborn, and a little bit reckless (in the best way). She’s the organizer who scribbles plans in the margins of comic books and keeps a map of secret routes in her pocket, but will trip over her own shoelaces while announcing the escape plan. Loves old music and tiny ceramic frogs for reasons she can’t explain, and yes she is terrified of birds despite pretending not to be. Basically the glue — loud when she needs to be, soft when it counts, and always, always getting everyone out of a jam (and sometimes into one).

Charlotte

Charlotte is the planner who can make a survival kit out of a paperclip and a peppermint — super practical, slightly controlling, in that comforting-but-suffocating way. She lives on lists, schedules, and a mysterious drawer of labelled strings, but will secretly rip up the schedule if a random midnight adventure shows up at the door. Has this dry, deadpan humor that sneaks up on you, and also collects postcards she never sends (no idea why). She keeps the group from panicking and then panics quietly into a mug of tea, which is oddly reassuring.

Josefine

Josefine is the kind of quiet that’s actually a volcano — soft-spoken until someone messes with the people she cares about (then woah). She carries a sketchbook everywhere and draws tiny, weird symbols that may or may not mean something important later; also she loves midnight walks and refuses to sleep before she’s checked the windows twice. Forgetful in tiny ways — can’t remember whether she ate lunch — but remembers the exact date you dropped your favorite pen five years ago. Mysterious, a little aloof, and fiercely loyal, like an artful guardian who hums when nervous.

Mads

Mads is the chaotic good one: inventor vibes, half-baked snack hoarder, always tinkering and somehow making brilliant-but-questionable gadgets. He’ll make you laugh (and maybe set off an accidental glitter bomb — despite claiming to hate glitter), then hand you a perfectly fixed radio with duct tape and a screwdriver. He’s surprisingly tender, cries at commercials and at sunsets, and will defend friends with a level of loyalty that’s ridiculous and lovely. A total mood lifter and walking disaster, in the best sense.

Kasper

Kasper is broody in a way that’s secretly soft — the sort of person who scowls but then remembers your birthday and brings you slightly burnt chocolate cake. He’s older-sibling protective, plays guitar when he’s thinking, drinks black coffee to seem mature and then orders chocolate milk when no one’s looking (so inconsistent). Has a stubborn streak and a scar you never ask about but it’s there and it probably has a story involving a dare and a canoe. Stoic on the surface, marshmallow in the inside, and very, very intense about small injustices.

Karen

Karen is mom-energy turned up to eleven: bossy, impossibly practical, always with a casserole or twelve, and will re-tuck your collar even if you’re thirty. She speaks in proverbs half the time and keeps a rolodex in her head of who needs what and when, but will also hide under a blanket and binge cartoons when she’s tired (don’t ask, just pass the popcorn). Obsessed with order but has sticky notes sticking out of every pocket like tiny flags of chaos — go figure. She holds everyone together with a mix of scolding and secret cookies, and somehow it works.

Møller

Møller is the grumpy-but-deeply-good older-town-official type — strict, brisk, stamps forms with authority, but will quietly leave you a note of encouragement folded into your coat pocket. He’s very by-the-book (unless a kid’s lost a pet, then the book is suddenly optional), collects slightly embarrassing things like novelty spoons, and has a pet goldfish named Otto who is apparently a very discerning judge of character. Impatient with nonsense yet unnervingly patient when it matters, and terrible at small talk but terrible in a lovable way. Essentially the “don’t let his frown fool you” mascot — rough edges, soft center, and very dependable.