Amazon Prime Review: ‘Bosch,’ Season 6

Barrel, Bosch, & Crate, photo credit: Lacey Terrell, IMDb

Has it actually been six years we’ve been enjoying Amazon Prime’s outstanding Bosch series? This isn’t exactly the world, or the characters, you’ll find in Michael Connelly’s bestselling crime novels, but it’s true to the spirit of the exercise. And Titus Welliver, as I’ve often said, has the character of Harry Bosch nailed.

This season, like the previous ones, is based on more than one book. So you’ll need to pay attention to keep the multiple story lines straight. Plot lines include the murder of a scientist near the famous Hollywood sign, which at first looks like part of a terrorist act by right-wing extremists. But it’s a lot more complicated than that, and police mistakes lead to serious blowback. There’s also a cold case, one of Harry’s “everybody matters” crusades, in which he tries to find the murderer of a teenaged street prostitute, attempting to give her mother some closure. And Harry’s partner Jerry Edgar is deep in an investigation of Haitian street gangs, which brings up bad memories of his own childhood in Haiti and leads him to contemplate crossing some lines.

It’s all intense, and fascinating, and compelling. A couple of points linger with me. I appreciated the expanded role for the Mutt ‘n Jeff detective team known as “Crate and Barrel,” older guys who started out pretty much as comic relief, but are now being permitted to demonstrate the qualities that earned them their gold shields in the first place.

Also the series took an interesting approach to its Alt-Right extremists. Although they’re clearly in the wrong, they’re given a chance to make their case, and they’re not entirely unsympathetic. Also – very oddly – they’re depicted as a multiracial group. I appreciate that touch, though I don’t find it very plausible (could be wrong).

Anyway, I consider Bosch one of the best series on any entertainment delivery system at the present time. Extreme cautions for language and mature themes.

Heroes in Their Own Story

In the bonus material on the back pages of Justice, author Jim Krueger praises Bob McKee and his story seminar for teaching him this pivotal idea: every good villain must believe himself to be the hero of his story.

You can see that idea played out best in my description of Luthor’s motives. He wanted to raise up a new, stronger humanity that didn’t lean on the crutches of overpowered non-humans like Superman and the Martian Manhunter. He’s still a villain because of the path he’s willing to take to get there, but you can see how calling him a hero of his own story could work.

Wilson Fisk (Kingpin) in the Daredevil series would easily fit here too. He spoke of remaking the city into a better, safer neighborhood. But he also knew what goodness and moral truth were, at least, something of them. In this clip, which is one of the best of the season, he talks through his thinking process probably for dramatic effect, not from a fit of honesty.

Krueger says good villains don’t roll out of bed wondering what new terrors they can unleash, except some of them do. Some men just want to watch the world burn, as Alfred in another story put it, and even Krueger’s story demonstrates that

In Justice, dozens of villains collaborate on a single, grand cause because they are being manipulated by their leaders. I won’t tell you how to avoid the spoiler, but they do not share a distorted view of some common good that has pressed them to put aside differences. Their only good is their own profit, power, or pleasure. Their leader is using them to wage war for as long as he can until he disposed of them. Nothing about that can be called good.

Heroism is about saving people. In the New Avengers series I’m reading now, their compulsion to save people is almost a weakness. They will not let go of the possibility that they could defeat what at the moment appears to be indefeatable. They must try while they still can. Villains think about using people and saving themselves, which isn’t good just as abuse of all types is heroic.

Macbeth may be the hero of his story. Hamlet is. Many others just want the thrill of dropping the match that sets the world aflame.

For your spectation

I have a new column up at The American Spectator Online today. This one (written before the Plague descended) considers the old TV show, “The Adventures of Jim Bowie” in light of the New York Times’ “1619 Project.”

In fact, America has a long history of self-criticism when it comes to Native American issues. Sticking to popular culture, I can cite a few examples out of my own limited viewing and reading.

Read it all here.

‘Serenity Engulfed,’ by Craig A. Hart

I’ve been going through Craig A. Hart’s Serenity series, reviewing as I went. I’ve enjoyed them and told you so. What I didn’t mention so much was the books’ weaknesses, which (sadly) are very apparent in the fifth installment of the series, Serenity Engulfed.

Shelby Alexander, former Detroit boxer and semi-legal “fixer,” has moved back to his home town of Serenity in northern Michigan (lower peninsula). His hopes for a peaceful life have been disrupted by appeals from various neighbors to help out with problems requiring a tough pair of fists.

In Serenity Engulfed, Shelby’s daughter Leslie, with whom he has recently reconciled, is kidnapped. The kidnapper is an old enemy, recently released from prison. Meanwhile, a local prostitute asks for his protection from a man who’s been brutalizing her.

Serenity Engulfed, sadly, seems to testify to a failure of creativity on the author’s part. His prose has always been adequate at best, but it looks as if he’s now run out of plot ideas too. This book is all about dealing once again with enemies Shelby has fought before, and replaying plot situations we’ve been through before. And the ending was – in my view – entirely implausible.

I was disappointed with Serenity Engulfed, but I’m a forgiving type. I’ll probably read the next book, to see if the author gets his bearings again.

‘Masked Prey,’ by John Sandford

“Then I’m like that Mission: Impossible thing, where the secretary will disavow any knowledge of me?”

“So fast your head will spin off—although it’d probably be a deputy assistant undersecretary in charge of cover-ups,” Henderson said. “You’re not nearly important enough to be disavowed by an actual secretary.”

John Sandford’s Lucas Davenport “Prey” series rolls along, dispensing dependable entertainment for the thriller fan. I’m kind of sad Davenport has taken his show on the road, operating as a US Marshal now, rather than sticking to Minnesota, my stomping grounds. But the stories remain good.

In Masked Prey, the teenaged daughter of a female senator, who has made herself a minor celebrity through podcasting, discovers a site on the Dark Web. This site posts excerpts from extreme Alt-Right sites, along with candid photos of the children of a number of legislators. No explicit threat is made, but it seems to be an invitation to target the kids for political purposes. The girl – and her mother – both freak out. The FBI makes a political decision to turn it over to Marshal Lucas Davenport, who’s good with bizarre problems and lateral thinking. What’s implicit, but not stated, is that they want Davenport to hunt the (expletive deleted) down and kill him with minimum fuss.

As Davenport pokes into the world of the Alt-Right, a “lone psycho” begins his journey of what he considers self-actualization. It’s his destiny, he believes, to change history by killing a lawmaker’s kid. He has to learn how to kill – which he does, and it’s harder than he expected – but he’s determined, and intelligent enough to make it work.

This story moves further into politics than most of Sandford’s books, but I think he squares the circle pretty well, generally. He establishes early on that Davenport himself tends to the conservative side. And his right-wing activists are deeper and more faceted than you might expect.

I did find what I believe to be a factual error in this book. I have no personal experience here, but I’m given to understand that the way the villain acquires a couple firearms in this book is not correct. You can’t (or so I’m told) simply walk into a gun show and walk out with a couple of guns, without a background check. Maybe I missed a technical point.

I’ve seen John Sandford criticized for having only one character, and there’s some justice in that. At least in terms of the jokes they make, all his characters talk pretty much the same. But the jokes work, and they’re often politically incorrect, so I’m not complaining.

Recommended, with cautions for language, adult themes, and disturbing scenes.

“Nothing Is Lost”

Bethel University, with campuses in St. Paul and Arden Hills, MN, has cut thirty faculty and thirty staff for the fall semester. Professor Chris Gehrz fears the college may not survive if other factors reduce enrollment.

Even if we could somehow suspend our fears of an invisible contagion spreading a potentially fatal disease, many of us at Bethel are experiencing the death of dreams and ideals and relationships. Losing a faculty position at a place like Bethel means the loss of income and stability, but also threatens a loss of calling. Most of those who lose their positions will struggle to find anything like a true replacement; many will have to leave academia and seek work in a depressed economy.

None of the anger, anxiety, and loss that people are going to feel this week is magically eliminated by a resurrection that left scars on Jesus’ own body.

I still believe my late friend Glen Wiberg was right that nothing, not even the brokenness and grief of mortal existence, is wasted, that God is “gathering up the fragments in resurrection so that nothing goes down the drain, nothing at all is lost.” 

“Nothing for your journey,” The Pietist Schoolman

‘The Museum of Desire,’ by Jonathan Kellerman

During the ensuing decades, no shortage of talk about renewal from politicians. But L.A.’s not a movie town for nothing; people get paid well to act.

Don’t even think about how many Alex Delaware mysteries have been written to date; in the great tradition of literary series, disbelief must be suspended. If you didn’t want to suspend disbelief, why did you shell out for the book?

I’m in a position to shell out for some of my pricier favorite authors now, so at last I’ve read The Museum of Desire by Jonathan Kellerman. It’s as good as I hoped.

L.A. Det. Lt. Milo Sturgis calls out his friend, psychologist Alex Delaware, whenever a murder appears to have a weird psychological angle. This one certainly qualifies. Behind an ugly, vacant mansion in Beverly Hills, a stretch limousine has been found. Inside are four bodies, posed in an obscene tableau. Does Alex have any idea what kind of mind is at work here? Alex has never seen anything like it, but the whole thing has an… artistic feel. In a creepy way.

They start talking to people who attended a recent party at the mansion. And that leads to artists, and (as you’d expect) all kinds of weirdness.

The Museum of Desire delivered all I looked for in an Alex Delaware book – twisted psychology, a challenging puzzle, good character interchanges, a pretty satisfying resolution. I had a good time with it. Serious cautions for language and disturbing scenes.

New Oxford Shakespeare Reattributes Several Works

One of my English professors, Dr. Cornelius, told us about a joke attempted during oral exams for his doctorate. He thought he had recognized a light-hearted spirit among his examining professors, so when the time came he offered a new line of study that fascinated him: The King James Bible had been translated by Shakespeare himself. Of course, the playwright would not openly take credit for this feat, but he did leave clues. Open up Psalm 46 and count to the 46th word, shake. Count again from the end of the psalm to the 47th word, spear.

I don’t remember how much further he was able to take the joke, but he could tell his audience wasn’t amused. Maybe it hit too close to home.

In 2016, The New Oxford Shakespeare strayed into that territory by way of “computerized textual analysis.” The edtiors believe they can attribute some new works to Shakespeare’s collaboration and other authors to other collaborations. Here’s a screenshot from the table of contents.

These new attributions came through comparing word choice and frequency. In this article from Oct. 2016, part of this analysis is described by the lead editor.

One piece of evidence identified five “Shakespeare-plus words”: gentle, answer, beseech, spoke, tonight. Taylor explained: “What we mean by Shakespeare-plus is that we’ve looked at the frequency of certain words which might seem commonplace like ‘tonight’ in all the plays of that early period, say up to 1600. Anybody could use any of these words. They’re not words that Shakespeare invented. But we can say Shakespeare used ‘tonight’ much more often than other playwrights in those 20 years.

“Christopher Marlowe credited as Shakespeare’s co-writer,” The Irish Times, Oct. 24, 2106.

Brian Vickers and his team of researchers believe this new evidence proves just about nothing. He gets into some of the weeds in this piece in the Times Literary Supplement, and I’ll jump in the middle of it here.

Although he endorsed Word Adjacency Networks, Gary Taylor preferred a simpler approach. Middleton’s increased share of Macbeth in the recent edition derives from a method that he had invented himself, called “micro-attribution”. Where other scholars use segments of 2,000 or 5,000 words, Taylor claimed he could determine the authorship of a speech by Hecate in four rhyming couplets, or only “sixty-three consecutive words”. . . . On first view I thought this a daft method, treating words like counters in a board game and creating meaningless word-units, which the player would search for in texts by other authors. Taylor solemnly applied it to passages of matching length and verse form in plays by Middleton and Shakespeare, and by a lengthy process of calculation involving very small matches (nine to eight, or six to four), he assigned Hecate’s speech to Middleton. No reputable scholar would accept attributions made on such Lilliputian samples.

Brian Vickers, “Infecting the teller,” Times Literary Supplement, April 17, 2020.

(Via Prufrock News)

‘Serenity Submerged,’ by Craig A. Hart

I’m enjoying Craig A. Hart’s Shelby Alexander series, set in the Michigan lakeside town of Serenity. Serenity Submerged is Number Four in sequence.

Shelby is a retired boxer who moved home to Serenity for a quieter life. So far his success in that regard has been negligible. This time out, a woman comes to see him, identifying herself as an FBI agent. She shows him a man’s picture and asks if he recognizes him. Shelby doesn’t admit it, but he’s shocked to see that it’s his friend Fritz, a resort owner. When he goes to ask Fritz about it, he learns that Fritz has a dark past. He’s holding some money that some bad people want very much. And now, apparently, he’s been located.

Meanwhile, a group of three criminals come into town, on the hunt for Fritz. Two are merely tough guys, but the third is a monster – a tall, ugly brute who looks like Frankenstein’s monster with a messed-up face.

Anyone who’s been following this series will know that Shelby and the monster are destined for a fistfight.

Serenity Submerged is a well-done “small” thriller – I like stories where the stakes are kept personal, instead of end-of-the-world stuff. The characters are fun – I especially enjoy the interplay between Shelby and his ex-cop friend Mac. And there were surprises. Plus some interpersonal relationship stuff for the ladies.

Recommended, with cautions for the usual suspects.

Justice by Jim Krueger and Alex Ross

DC Justice Absolute

It would be natural and unfair to compare Justice by Jim Krueger and Alex Ross to the comic book series I reviewed a couple days ago. The Infinity Gauntlet was published in 1991, Justice in published in 2007. The scope of each project was likely different from the start. Twelve large issues for Thanos’s story may not have been possible had it been proposed.

But the two series offer roughly similar stories. The end of the world is at hand and a wide host of characters jump forward to move the story in their own direction, at least half of them I didn’t know. This set of twelve issues touches good, moving themes that are often left in draft in other series or touched so briefly as to be unnoticeable.

Justice appears to be a story of DC Comics’ Justice League of America moving from a loosely coordinated group of confederates to a band of actual friends. It begins with the world in nuclear holocaust, each hero failing to save a city or region as another destructive wave crashes over them. A few of them say, “I was too late. But I’m never too late.”

This is just a dream, however, that the world’s supervillains all experience together. They come to believe the world will end soon and their nemeses in the Justice League will be powerless to stop it. So they band together to save humanity, while taking measures to profit personally. Captain Cold and Poison Ivy turn a desert into an oasis. Scarecrow offers miracle cures to young people with crippling diseases. When the time is right, Luthor, Black Manta, and others announce to the world their generosity and intent to raise up new, floating cities to welcome the downtrodden and raise up a newly emboldened human race to seek new horizons, to soar to new heights, etc. etc.

The world is amazed at this turn of events, but willing to go along with what appears to be a good thing. The Justice League of America is nowhere to seen, so they don’t appear to have a problem with it or maybe, the cynics say, they can’t profit by it.

Continue reading Justice by Jim Krueger and Alex Ross