Showing posts with label Red Herring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Red Herring. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2026

Season 22 - The Blackheath Poisonings (1992-1993)

If you're anything like me you have an old stack of catalogs in your bathroom. Signals and Acorn are perennial favorites even if they're over a decade old. Of course this leads to the problem that most of the DVD sets I'm coveting are now long out of print. One such DVD I desired was The Blackheath Poisonings. Oh, how I longed for it. It's in the British tradition of everyone in a large extended family living together who them start dropping like flies. Add in the fact that the family runs a successful toy company and live on the edge of a heath and the Gothic atmosphere is turned up to eleven. One day when I was checking my external hard drives I discovered that I had somewhere along the way acquired a copy. Which meant that all other shows were dropped because it was time for some poison! Three episodes later I wished I had taken the poison. Such potential wasted with too many tropes. Literally the only thing I liked was their house. It was a unique and highly tiled entryway that helped distract me from how completely stupid each and every character was in this series. I honestly don't know how it was possible for each and every character to be too dumb to live. Literally ALL OF THEM. The patriarch becomes severally ill and is recovering if his food is carefully prepped and monitored. But occasionally he relapses and eventually dies. Don't you think that, I don't know, someone would look for some food secreted about his room or a flask filled with liqueur that he might be sneaking against doctor's orders? When his son bothers to look after the death the flask is found in under a minute. But then again our earnest young crime solver is also in love with his "aunt" who was also his father's mistress and he spends all his time when he's not trying to connect the dots of criminality plighting his troth. To a women who could easily be his mother. Though of course the killer isn't done with one death, the elderly matriarch, Sister Monica Joan from Call the Midwife, she starts exhibiting the same symptoms and seriously, the family and the family doctor are like, what could it possibly be!?! She deserved to die. They all deserved to die. And I felt cheated with them using Patrick Malahide as a red herring. He's so wonderfully malevolent and scheming, but alas, this show is nothing more than a family bickering, having affairs, fighting for dominance, and wanting to sleep with Ian McNeice's wife. And that right there is why the first murder happened, because Ian McNeice is the killer. But it's SO much worse than that. Because he likes to dress in women's clothing and go to secret clubs and wander the heath dressed in widow's weeds. That's why his mother had to die, she saw him on the heath. Though there was no way that was Ian McNeice. There is no fat shaming on this blog, but it has to be pointed out that even in the early nineties Ian McNeice was an ample man. There was no way he fit convincingly into a corset to wander the heath. That's a body double. Which is why I didn't guess he was the killer, it wasn't that I didn't add up the pieces I just hoped that this was above hateful anti-trans tropes. But it wasn't. Though in my desperation to follow this up with something I would enjoy I rewatched all of Father Brown, so I have to thank The Blackheath Poisonings for being so bad, stupid, and hateful, for me to remember how much I love the denizens of Kembleford.

Friday, May 9, 2025

Book Review - Katy Hays's The Cloisters

The Cloisters by Katy Hays
Published by: Atria Books
Publication Date: November 1st, 2022
Format: Hardcover, 320 Pages
Rating: ★★★
To Buy

The Cloisters are located in Washington Heights, sitting on a hill in Fort Tryon Park on the Hudson River it is a world away from the hustle and bustle of New York City. The structure is made up of elements from abbeys in France and Catalonia that incorporate four cloisters, the Cuxa, the Saint-Guilhem, the Bonnefont, and the Trie. There are three gardens containing rare medieval species of plants but most people come to see the Met's collection of 5,000 pieces of medieval art. Illuminated manuscripts, tapestries, stained glass, paintings, and sculptures adorn the Gothic chapel, the Fuentidueña chapel, the Langon chapel, the Romanesque hall, and the Treasury room. With even more treasures contained in the library and archives. This is where Ann Stilwell will be spending her summer. An Early Renaissance scholar from Whitman, a small college no one has heard of in Washington, she had secured a position in the Summer Associates Program at the Metropolitan Museum of Art being a glorified intern. It wasn't what she had planned, but it was the only thing that panned out. And it was only for three months. But it was a start. A way to get away from home and its dark memories. When she arrives at the Met they inform her that they no longer have a place for her. She is nothing more than an administrative oversight. She can't believe what she's hearing. She's frozen to the spot. Unable to move when in walks Patrick Roland, the curator of The Cloisters. He's there to inform them that his temporary, and totally unsuitable, associate curator has left him in the lurch. He needs more hands and right there in front of him is Ann. She'll be perfect. And all Ann can think is that it's serendipity, that if she hadn't sat there a moment too long she wouldn't be being swept away from Museum Mile into another world, a sheltered haven of enigmatic curators. Rachel Mondray, the curatorial associate, and Leo Bitburg, the gardener, become her closest friends. When Ann proves adept they decide to bring her into their world of shadowy secrets, rare book dealers, poisonous plants, and, above all, the tarot. The tarot is Patrick's infatuation. But his obsession isn't just academic, he's a true believer, and Ann's discovery of a 15th-century Italian tarot card from a deck previously thought lost changes everything. The power dynamics in the group shift and control is lost and one night things get out of hand and Patrick ends up dead. Any one of them could have done it, but Ann will make sure it isn't her who takes the fall.

I picked up The Cloisters because I have a fascination with the tarot. Not so much it's mystical powers with regard to divination, but the history and the art. Pamela Colman Smith's illustrations for the Rider-Waite Tarot deck are iconic. You would most likely recognize them even if you knew nothing about tarot they are that famous. So while I am more into the practical side of tarot, the mystical side, especially in fiction, is irresistible to me. And the marketing for The Cloisters leaned into this dark academia vibe with a supernaturally aided power play via tarot. In fact Katy Hays went so far as to actually include Ann Stilwell's Guide to Reading Tarot with pages and pages of details about the Ferrara Deck. The major and minor arcana are laid out over twelve pages with associated gods and planetary rulers and detailed descriptions of the illustrations and their meanings. So I have to ask, if the tarot was seemingly so important why is it nothing more than a MacGuffin? You do not write the rules for an entire tarot deck to have that deck be a red herring! That just makes no sense. And yet that's exactly what this book did. The cards don't matter, it's just the shiny object that everyone wants because they think it will bring them power. It literally could have been anything. Hell, they're surrounded by medieval artifacts, why wasn't it a chalice? Go all Indiana Jones! Because the tarot brings baggage, it brings expectations, and none of those were met. There's nothing magical here other than a well told story about four people manipulating each other to see who comes out on top. Words are magic, so I don't need a promise of magic that is never fulfilled because now I feel cheated. I feel so let down. And I can't tell if it's because Katy Hays had other plans for when she outlined the book and what she ended up writing or it if was all an act of misdirection. A way for these sociopaths to justify their behavior by saying it's fate. By claiming the mystical when it's just the mundane. The Cloisters themselves gave such a sense of place, a sense of something bigger than them while still being precious, that I wish the actions of the characters matched the setting. Look to Rosemary's Baby. There is the sense of place, the wish fulfillment, and then the devil. This does show evil but it's not enough to save it from a failure to deliver. I can't help thinking that if Riley Sager was to do a rewrite, bring in a little more of Hill House, that this could be perfection. As it is, it's an incomplete deck lost to time.

Friday, March 14, 2025

Book Review - Jessica Fellowes's The Mitford Secret

The Mitford Secret by Jessica Fellowes
Published by: Minotaur Books
Publication Date: January 17th, 2023
Format: Hardcover, 384 Pages
Rating: ★★
To Buy

Deborah Mitford is now Lady Andrew Cavendish and she is determined to make her first Christmas as a newlywed a success. It doesn't matter that menus will have to be creative due to rationing, or that Andrew won't be there to celebrate, or that their hoped for child was stillborn, because her in-laws have given her free range of Chatsworth. Her first house party must be a success, and this is quite the house. Even if it's a bit of a mess what with it being used as a school now and the rest of the house being practically shut up, she's sure she can make one or two rooms comfortable and brimming with Christmas cheer. She needs a win. Even if it's small and might seem silly to anyone else, this is her chance to shine. From the Cavendish side, Andrew's grandmother, parents, brother, future sister-in-law, aunt, and uncle will all be in attendance. From the Mitford side, less of a showing what with Tom in Burma and Diana in prison, but Deborah's parents, Unity, and Nancy are all coming. As is Louisa Sullivan. Nancy, knowing her family, thinks a buffer would be a good idea and this way Louisa and her darling daughter Maisie get away from the constant bombing of London and get to have an actually restful holiday. Or that's the plan. Because as soon as Lord Redesdale sees Louisa he's convinced that a dead body will show up any minute. And while one would hope that he is wrong, he's not. One night before dinner a strange villager shows up at the door demanding entrance. A Mrs. Hoole. She has a message for Lady Andrew from, well, she can't really say from where, but they come to her. And the message is to "look in the vestibule." This is all a bit much and cook will be furious if dinner gets cold, but between them all they figure out exactly where in this enormous house there is a vestibule and there they find a maid's cap with dried blood. But as the dowager duchess points out, the style of the cap is from at least the last war. Intrigued and late for dinner they decide that Mrs. Hoole will return and perform a seance. The next night she puts on quite the show for them all but saves the best for last. She tells Deborah, Nancy, and Louisa, the truth after everyone else has retired for the night. She used to work at the house with her dear friend Joan Dorries who disappeared in 1916. The household and the police weren't interested in investigating. But Mrs. Hoole, hearing that a private detective was staying up at the house, realized this might be her last chance to find out the truth. Sadly Mrs. Hoole will be found dead the next morning. The local doctor can't say if it is suspicious or not. Louisa is convinced it is, Lord Redesdale is resigned. It's just another Mitford occasion with Louisa and a corpse. Everything is bound to work out in the end with some dramatics in the interim.

This is it! This is the book I've been waiting for. And not just because it's the end of the series, but because it's about my favorite Mitford, Deborah. Also, if you are wondering, my Mitford ranking goes Deborah, Jessica, Nancy, Pamela, Unity, and in the depths of hell, Diana. So, no pressure right? Jessica Fellowes, it's your duty to make Debo shine! And honestly, there literally was no pressure because my expectations for this series are so low, and yet this book failed to reach even this low bar. The thing is, back in 2020 I read the first three books in this series and, well, hate is almost too benign a word for what I felt. Though I was determined that I would finish this series. So I girded my loins and just finished the series this year. And yes, it did take me five years to mentally prepare myself for this task. At first I thought that maybe I had been too harsh on the series because the fourth book, The Mitford Trial, wasn't half bad. But the next two books were right back on form, subpar to say the least. From the beginning this series hasn't actually known what to do with the Mitfords. They're there but they add nothing. Which is why I think I actually enjoyed The Mitford Trial, because the Mitfords were integral to the plot not just ambiance. Here they're back to being wallpaper. Yes, we need Deborah because without her we don't have Chatsworth, but seeing as Jessica Fellowes has written so many books on Downton Abbey you think she'd get the dynamic right of the most classic of tropes, a murder mystery at a country house during Christmas. She doesn't. There's no forward momentum. At one point Louisa says that the house is in the dead days between Christmas and New Year's. Now I've never felt that these were dead days, just days to read and recharge, I now view them as dead days. Days that stretch on interminably by an inept author. Why are we supposed to care about a cold case? Why are we supposed to care about a dead woman who may or may not have been murdered? We were given no stakes, instead we were given an unhinged Louisa. She behaves so rashly and out of character that it made me remember why I hated her in the first place. I mean, she just finds the killer by a process of elimination because she has literally blamed everyone else for the crime. And in some cases called the police on them. I mean, this is her job and she is just shit at it. What's more, this running around like a chicken with it's head cut off endangers her child but she doesn't seem to care. But the real kicker is that Jessica Fellowes had a clever idea, I mean, it was bound to happen sometime. The crime scene is a red herring. This should have been played up not left until the end as an afterthought. Though thankfully, this is the end. Right? Don't even think about giving her a contract for a book about Tom!

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