Fake True Crime > True True Crime
Plus, it's funny
I’m not here to investigate the morality of true crime content. Long before “My Favorite Murder” we had eight versions of Law & Order airing at all hours of the day; suffice it to say, America’s love of righteous cops investigating the salacious slayings of pretty blondes is long-standing and not going anywhere. Profiting off of a real person’s murder, or getting rich through propaganda…yeah, it’s tacky, at best. But also, to quote Cher Horowitz, until mankind is peaceful enough not to have violence on the news, there’s no point in taking it out of shows that need it for entertainment value.
I have a different gripe with the true-crime boom and, tangentially, the prestige detective show: most of it isn’t very good. As with anything that gets popular, the original is great, which is why it begets copies, which suck.
In fiction, it looks like this: The Killing was moody, with pathos. Broadchurch was straightforwardly good. True Detective was nonsense. The Undoing was dumb as fuck.
In non-fiction, we have Serial, the gold standard. Then Michelle McNamara’s posthumous I'll Be Gone in the Dark: One Woman's Obsessive Search for the Golden State Killer. Dirty John and Dr. Death were more icky than intellectual. And most recently, I watched Last Call: When A Serial Killer Stalked Queer New York on Max, which was a gripping investigation story, a tenderly told love story, an important story of civil rights and city politics, of lies and truths and safe spaces and community that unfortunately kept stopping every ten minutes to preach about homophobia in the NYPD in a way that felt forced and heavy-handed, stretching the real facts of prejudice to fit a narrative…to prove that they weren’t being unethical and tawdry. Ah well.
(For my money, American Crime Story: The People vs. OJ Simpson is the ne plus ultra of fictionalized true crime that respects detective work while casting a critical eye toward both the cops and the media.)
Now, an exciting third avenue emerges: fake true crime. Which is different from a show about a fake murder. I mean a fake show about a fake real crime, something that acknowledges the form, plays with the tropes and satisfies the craving for true crime…but fake! So far, entries in the canon include American Vandal (Netflix), Only Murders In the Building (Hulu), and Based On A True Story (Peacock). All are comedies that investigate a single case over the course of the season, and they can get as ridiculous as they want (and they do get ridiculous) because it’s fake, baby! There are no victims’ memories to disrespect!
(Also, multiple episodes of Community.)
These programs can get as sentimental as fiction, but have the structure of journalism and familiar rhythm of a mystery to propel forward action, and best of all…a team of writers making sure everything adds up. No frustrating lack of answers about an unsolved mystery, lingering doubts and even guilt if you think the wrong person went to jail, or fear that the real killer is still out there. Why let murderers, thieves and rapists decide the plot when you could have a team of skilled writers making things not only scintillating but sensical?
Others have seen the comedic potential of the true crime format. I’m excited to start listening to the popular podcast “Who Shat On the Floor At My Wedding?” which is non-fiction and exactly what the title promises. And gay!
And THAT is what I have to SAY about TELEVISION RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lizzie
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