In a 27-room historic mansion on the exclusive island of Coronado, a tragedy filled with mystery emerged this summer. You reach Coronado via a bridge from San Diego. The bridge is a road to paradise for some. Many Arizonans travel to southern California for the summer to escape the relentless heat, buying or renting homes in the San Diego area. Such is the case with Jonah Shacknai and his family. Except that their family vacation ended with two people dead, and many questions left unanswered. Continue reading
crime
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Dominique Strauss-Kahn was indicted by a New York court today on 7 counts including unlawful imprisonment and attempted rape – he was also granted bail despite prosecutors’ assertion that he could become “another Roman Polanski.” However, despite the severity of the charges no one seems to be showing any concern for the victim and everyone is trying to rationalize away the crime itself. Continue reading
My favorite public policy wonk-blogger Matt Yglesias posted last night that he was attacked in D.C. while walking home from Atlantic Monthly Resident Idiot Writer Megan McCardle’s house. Continue reading
And so returns the murder mystery. Undeniably, AMC is cementing itself into one of the premiere cable networks with their offerings of varied and significant prestige dramas. We won’t count the canceled Rubicon. No, no we won’t. Aside from their one misstep, it’s no wonder that negotiations for their shows enter into the realm of epic three ring circus, the shows are just that good. And when a show falls short of its mark, nearly heaven and earth is moved to diagnose and fix the problem, just like in the case of The Walking Dead. Essentially, the network knows what it’s doing. It understands that its audience is looking for something heartier, more thought out, more nuanced, and exceedingly more entertaining than the typical procedural major network show.
Enter The Killing. We’re still a little disappointed that there won’t be a Mad Men season this year since given contract negotiations and timing, AMC pushed back their flagship program to roll out new shows like The Killing. The biggest question critics may ask is — are the new shows worth it?
The two-hour season premiere on Sunday night was in part an introduction to the story and the characters, and in part a head-on challenge to the viewer to forget what you know. Largely on the face of it, the show isn’t something that we’ve not heard or seen before. True to form it does have a very Twin Peaks-esque aura about it. There’s a dead popular teenager, a seemingly small town atmosphere, (even though the story is set in Seattle), and numerous suspects. And with each new suspect that’s introduced, there is just something, something about all of them that could lend them to commit murder. Whether it’s a bit of malevolence in the eyes, a shifty, nervous countenance, or just enough eerie creepiness that makes you think, “Yeah, that guy could have done it” but you’re also keen enough to know that there will be surprises. And you get most of this from the first episode.
The story centers around a neighborhood filled with high schoolers, and riff-raff, the working class, and the affluent — at will various personalities emerge. The lead detective, Sarah Linden, is played by Big Love’s Mireille Enos, in almost an unrecognizable role. She’s short and unassuming, her smiles are infrequent and she has one hell of a stare. I would say that she landed the part based on that piercing, unforgiving stare. She is respected, capable, underestimated, and no novice. She’s the Clarice Starling of the show, definitely, but so subdued you wonder if her heart beats more than a few clicks a minute, but that all adds to the heightened suspense — you just don’t know what she’s thinking until she says something almost imperceptible. There are no Dr. House moments of sudden clarity here.
Her begrudging partner, Stephen Holder (Joel Kinnaman), is an itchy guy. He’s been sent to replace Linden as she is set to move to California and get married, literally moments before the case starts. He’s uncomfortable to watch and is skilled at making Linden flinch with his smirky candor, and off-the-cuff remarks. Mostly when watching him he’s insufferable, all swagger, bravado, and some level of mania that lies just below the surface. He’s the element of unpredictability on the side of the investigators. His whole character is constructed to make Linden, and through Linden, us the audience, off-balance.
The murder victim, Rosie Larsen, is the typical teenager, good and light on the surface, but edgy and dark in life. Along with the sentiment that she was an innocent victim, you do get the sense that Rosie was in a bit over her head with something. The something we don’t know quite yet, but we do know there are lots of secrets surrounding this girl and her friends. And urgh her friends. Don’t you just hate teenagers? It was infuriating watching the girl’s best friend, Sterling Fitch, attempt to keep their secrets hidden while lying and engaging in that frantic, panicked thing akin to teens that are involved in something that they don’t have the ability to handle.
The puzzle piece that does not fit is a councilman running for office, played by The 4400‘s Billy Campbell. He’s the outlier. There is some connection between him and the dead girl which hasn’t been uncovered yet. It’s revealed that he has a dead wife, and a few secrets of his own. It seems much of the show may be centered around what his connection to Rosie is, and if possibly his extracurricular activities have anything to do with young girls. [SPOILER ALERT] After Rosie is found in the trunk of his campaign aide’s car, and his less than flustered response, he moves up to prime suspect. However, we doubt he’ll stay there.
Rosie Larsen’s parents, (played by True Blood’s Michelle Forbes; and Life’s Brent Sexton), are straight out of a scene from Mystic River, and lend the story the emotional backbone. As it’s learned that Rosie is missing, and that no one’s heard from her, you know it’s just a matter of time until the inevitable is found out. You don’t know how or when, but you know that when they find out, it will be bad. The show sets up this moment by telling us that Rosie was on track to go to college and by showing us scenes from her very teenage bedroom complete with butterfly shaped picture collage and pink, girly theme. When the moment actually comes, the actors give a good performance. I wouldn’t say Sean Penn held back by ten police, good, but just heart wrenching enough in their shock and horror. You see them dealing with the loss for at least 24 hours independently, as they’ve been advised not to tell anyone else while the investigation progresses. Possibly without knowing it, we measure hearing grave news and what our reaction would be against what the actors do as our own way of gauging authenticity. A television show may never get it totally right, but for the purposes here, it worked.
The last big character in The Killing is the rain. There is nothing more dismal and foreboding than nonstop rain. It is a blanket of doom like no other. And while the decision to have the show set in Seattle may be a bit transparent, it works nonetheless. Watching a rain-soaked murder mystery puts you in a heavier mood while viewing, and makes that which may not be overly poignant, much more so.
There are elements to this drama that will lend itself to being a compelling mystery. AMC has worked out who they want you to identify with, and how they want the mystery to unfold, and it attempts the style of a theatrical movie (As mentioned see: Mystic River or Dolores Claiborne), and not a typical CBS drama. They want you, the audience, to be interactive. They want you to see the clues and start putting the pieces together.
While the show doesn’t have the instant “Wow” factor of Mad Men, it does follow AMC’s studied exposition of subtlety and successfully pulls you in. This is not supposed to be altogether new territory, but it is supposed to be a more nuanced take on something we’ve seen before, but done better.
I’m willing to see where it takes us. Are you?
The Killing airs on Sunday nights at 10 pm EST on AMC.
At 7 AM on a glittering July morning in 1996, I lay nude and face down on an expensive sheet in the sands of Tobay Beach, a sugary-sanded stretch of barrier island off Long Island’s South Shore. Terns circled overhead and the scent of beach roses was intoxicating. Nudity is allowed on this particular beach, and although I’m shy, I took note of the fact that I was very much alone.
My huge, blond, Nordic boyfriend had gone for a walk – probably to explore his other options, and this made me sad. My annoyance was compounded when a Coast Guard Officer approached. I looked around for my swimsuit, certain he was going to tell me to put it back on.
He did not.
He squatted down and engaged me in charming conversation. He was handsome and lean, about 40 or so, and had delightful, kind, vibrantly green eyes. He gently ran a hand over my ass, and without a lot of heat I told him that my boyfriend would kill him. He patted his gun and told me he’d take his chances. We had a very in-depth conversation without a lot of words.
Hindsight is 20/20. I shouldn’t have let him depart while casting wistful gazes at my derriere. The Nordic boyfriend was short-lived, and the idea of canoodling in a cabin with a Swarthy Sea Dog has crossed my mind more than once since then. Yes, I have my beloved Cap’n, but haven’t all of you wondered what might have been?
Back to being alone. For all their natural beauty, the barrier islands are isolated and feel like the last place on earth. You can drive 90 minutes and be in Times Square, but here, it’s Nowheresville.
This is probably why a serial killer chose to dump 8 of his victims on the bay side of Ocean Parkway. No one except for avid fishermen go in those dunes. The sands there are covered with scrub oaks, Japanese Black Pine trees, and are home to bunnies, hawks and sea birds. And now, the remains of young women.
Most of the victims seem to be prostitutes, which to me is just tragic. It’s bad enough that they felt they had to make a living in a dangerous, degrading profession, but to be murdered and left in the dunes is just a terrible fate which no one deserves. The three latest victims have not been identified yet.
One of the victims met a wealthy man for a “date”, and he was the last to see her alive. He’s been interviewed extensively, and I’m quite sure he didn’t kill her. I think it’s just a wrong-place-wrong-time thing for him, and he’s probably mortified that all his neighbors in his tony hamlet know he trolls Craigslist for hookers.
So who did kill these women?
Well, FBI profiling would indicate a white man in his 30s or 40s, isolated and normal-looking, with few friends and nobody close. The 8 victims found are probably only a few of his. And law enforcement will have a hard time catching him unless he screws up. Nassau County Police and the NYPD barely speak to each other about missing persons and murder victims. In fact, one victim reported missing in the city sat in a Nassau morgue for over a month before someone thought to check.
The killer is probably local – I’m guessing from Suffolk County. He’s probably geeky and wears outdated clothes – all serial killers who have been caught fit this mold. Definitely not a corporate type, and probably not well-off. He probably plans his killings meticulously, but “goes somewhere else” in his head during the actual murders.
I just described the entire populace of the towns of Mastic and Shirley. The cops have a lot of work to do. Stay tuned.
I moved to San Miguel de Allende six short months ago, and there’s a lot to love about this place. It’s a 500-year old Spanish colonial city that, despite growth and an enormous expat population, retains much of it’s old-world charm. There’s a thriving arts community, the rents are still relatively cheap, and the high-desert climate is just about perfect: cool nights, warm days, dry air and an abundance of sunshine. And while the growing violence in Mexico is quietly discussed at cocktail parties around town, San Miguel has been relatively sheltered from what’s been occurring in areas closer to the US border.
At least until now.
In the past three weeks, three American expats have been brutally murdered here.
On January 19th, Peter Mudge, a retired American who had been living in San Miguel for 20 years, was found dead in his home, the victim of an apparent robbery gone wrong. He was found with a plastic bag tied to his head, and he had been stabbed more than a dozen times.
On January 23rd, the body of a young American identified only as “Andrew” was recovered from the side of a local road, his body riddled with bullets. For some reason, the US Consulate’s office will offer no details, citing the need to protect the family’s privacy.
And on February 6th, Joseph Feuerborn, another expat who had been living in San Miguel for decades, was found beaten to death in his home, also the victim of an apparent robbery.
Stories of the three murders vary widely. Coroners are reported to have labeled Mudge’s death as asphyxiation, and Feuerborn’s as heart attack, even though local newspapers have reported the violence.
The local internet boards, which are populated almost exclusively by Americans, are full of rumor, speculation, fear and uncertainty. And the people that own property here don’t want this kind of bad news to spread, so there seems to be a push, particularly on the boards, to keep information from getting out there. It’s unfortunate, as the boards are the only source of information at times.
I love living here, but I’m beginning to feel as though I have a target on my back. I’m a gringo, a foreigner. A have in the land of have-nots. A large part of me wants to head back home. And a part of me wants to stay and just close my eyes to what’s obviously happening.