Book Review - Chris Tullbane's Investigation, Meditation, Vindication
Investigation, Mediation, Vindication by Chris Tullbane
Published by: Ghost Falls Press
Publication Date: May 19th, 2020
Format: Kindle, 330 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)
Placing an ad for your business in a phone book in 2013 probably isn't the wisest use of your meager funds. Placing that ad while drunk is definitely worse. Writing the ad copy while on the third pitcher of beer with your best friend means that the ad just might reflect how drunk you are. Which is why John Smith's ad in the phone book for his PI business reads: "Investigation. Mediation. Vindication. No case too small, no fee too large. (Tips gratefully accepted, but not required.)" And that ad is about to come back and bite him in the ass. Comic Con is in full swing in San Diego when two people in giant crab costumes attack him. Sure, his office might be in a sketchy neighborhood a few miles from the convention, but that doesn't mean he instantly finds it suspicious. Until he realizes that they aren't in costumes and a kick as woman saves his ass and tells him his life is in danger. Who is he to argue with his future wife? Who just happens to be a vampire. Turns out, vampires are real. But everything we know about them is wrong, even the whole aversion to daylight thing. And the vampires need John Smith. Not for his PI skills, for his mediation skills. Which are non-existent. He tried to watch a video once. It didn't go well. Does he have to mention again that he was really drunk when he placed the ad and it just sounded cool? The problem is there is a large supernatural world that mundane humans know nothing about. If something cataclysmic, like a war, were to break out, then all the humans would die. The vampires are on the brink of war due to accusations hurled at them by Lord Beel-Kasan, demigod of nightmares and terror, but John can call him Bill. According to the rules laid out for these types of grievances a mediator is called in, approved of by both parties, and is given a month to resolve the issues or war commences. But there's someone in San Diego who really wants a war. The regular mediator, the Rook, has been brutally murdered. As has every other mediator in the city. John survived only due to vampire intervention and being listed in the phone book under P for Private Investigator. Which means John's the last mediator standing. In a little over twenty-four hours' time, John Smith had gone from having no cases and limited career prospects, to having two cases and a limited life expectancy. It didn't seem like an improvement.
I'm really of two minds about this book and that's probably because there's a distinct break point in the middle where it goes from inaction to action. The first half of this book is nothing more than vampire lore and John Smith hanging out at the vampire House eating amazing sandwiches and playing video games while the second half of the book actually has a plot. I mean, I admire Chris Tullbane's take on vampire lore, the way their hierarchy works, how they turn and when, and their reverence of children. This is all fascinating stuff, the problem is, while we're learning this there's nothing else going on. Literally nothing. So much nothing that the fact that John puts on a Greendale Community College t-shirt is interesting and becomes a plot point because us readers are so starved for anything in the plot desert of this book. At that point I honestly didn't think I could finish this book. I had just dragged myself through another horrible urban fantasy book and I really strive to not be such a masochist. Oh, who am I kidding, I will finish any book no matter how much I hate it. Which was why it was such a relief when John was introduced to Lord Beel-Kasan, demigod of nightmares and terror, and all of a sudden there was a plot. The vampires had stolen his NES and John was to find it and bring the two perpetrators to him for vengeance. In other words they might be turned into candelabra's in Bill's special hell. You know, what normal demigods do when someone steals their video game consoles... And yes, John did ask if he could buy him a replacement, but his guesstimate on cost was way below market price. So there was a plot, there was Bill, there was a nice Checquy vibe. I was on board, I was enjoying myself, things were happening, and sure, maybe there was a little too much death at the end but at least something was happening. The desert was now only in Bill's hell dimension. So I enjoyed the book but I'm still wondering about John Smith, from a long line of John Smiths. And no, I'm not wondering if he's The Doctor, I'm wondering if he's an asshole. See, the thing is, John Smith is a bit of a throwback dudebro with mildly sexist vibes. The vampires find the foibles of this human amusing and I just don't know what to think. In fact his Skinemax sexism has turned off quite a few readers and I have to question have I become inured to this type of behavior? Have I been conditioned not to care because as a woman this is so prevalent we had to adapt. I mean, sure he'll compliment the guys too, but I feel like I should be angrier that he is so regressive. I shouldn't be more annoyed that his bragging got a whole bunch of fictional innocents killed than that he's sexist right? Right!?!
When a show is based on a book that no one has bothered to even translate into English to release as a tie-in edition with the show, as a viewer you're not expecting fine art. Which is exactly where your expectations should be in regard to The Couple Next Door. This is about pretty people fucking each other. Both literally and figuratively. Jessica De Gouw and Sam Heughan are Danny and Becka, the playful couple into swinging. Eleanor Tomlinson and Alfred Enoch are Evie and Pete, the happily married childhood sweethearts expecting their first child. The couples become friends, Eleanor and Alfred lose the baby, and the sexcapades start. Evie is a little too into it. Pete is just trying to please his wife. As for the swingers, they broke their cardinal rule of not mixing friendship and pleasure. There's large expanses of time just wasted on longing looks with music and slow motion camerawork. So. Many. Longing. Looks. Yes, I get it Starz, you're trying to do softcore porn, can we maybe get a plot to go with that? They do try to shoehorn in a plot with corrupt cops and investigative journalism and religious fundamentalism and slut-shaming and Danny having a deaf kid by another woman, but none of this matters, and in fact, none of it is resolved or will be resolved because by season two we're onto a whole new cast. Well, almost all new. One standout character remains. Which is where this show shines. When it's just pretty people and their paramours, it's nothing, when it becomes about creepy stalkers and sexual mind games, well, then it's special. Eleanor Tomlinson's Evie gets this wicked gleam in her eye as she starts to become obsessed with Danny. She knows they have a connection and due to his incredibly fertile sperm he gets Evie pregnant. Which Evie then spins into a fantasy of the two of them running off together and starting a new life. Which, yes, it could then be compared to Fatal Attraction. But the thing is, while Evie is wonderfully unsettling, it's when Alfred Enoch's Pete goes over the edge that the whole series gels. He is deranged but Enoch makes the character someone relatable. You want him to take this all to the next level. You want him to burn their street to the ground. This show understands it's soapy nature and that is why it works. If it didn't have this absurdity to it, well, then it would be pornographic schlock. Which brings us to the best character who is returning for the second season, Alan Richardson as played by Hugh Dennis. Alan takes care of his wife while spending all his free time spying on Danny and Becka. He quickly spirals out of control when Becka boots him from her yoga class. He takes revenge by breaking into their house and leaking their private photos online. But the strain is too much and he has a stroke. Which leads to him being taken care of by his wife. Who exerts exquiste revenge on her pervert husband. It's that exquiste revenge, that exqusite mania, that line between how a normal person would react to a situation and how we wish our darker selves could react that makes this show work. It's still not high art, but at times it's hilarious.
