Netflix review: Rebus

In the wake of the considerable pleasure I took in watching the BBC TV series, Luther (review further down the page) on Netflix, I went ahead and tried a different British detective show, a Scottish series based on the Rebus novels by Ian Rankin, of which I’ve read a few.

The main surprise awaiting the unsuspecting viewer is that the series, as packaged and presented on Netflix, is actually two series.

The original four episodes, from the year 2000, starred the actor John Hannah (whom you may know from the Spartacus cable series, if you watch that sort of thing). It hewed fairly close to the original books, presenting the dark, gritty world of lower-class Edinburgh, where Det. Inspector John Rebus works. Hannah’s Rebus is a tortured man, plagued by inner rages and a serious drinking problem (not the kind that TV writers add to a character as amusing color, but the kind that messes up both his job and his family life). The detective often makes serious mistakes, and his job security is shaky.

An interesting element is a few suggestions that Rebus retains a tentative hold on some kind of religious faith.

Then comes Season Two, which first aired in 2006. Not only do we have a new production team, there’s a new cast, new sets, and a new, slicker look. Even when Rebus stays in the slums, they look less depressing, more bright and airy. The Edinburgh of this series is one you’re tempted to visit. I wonder if the Scottish Tourist Board didn’t apply pressure to make that change. Continue reading Netflix review: Rebus

The 24th Letter, by Tom Lowe

I reviewed Tom Lowe’s first Sean O’Brien mystery, A False Dawn, a while back. I liked the writing (though a copy editor might have been profitably employed) as well as the characters, but felt the story was weakly constructed and fell apart toward the end. My report on the second book in the series, The 24th Letter, is that the storytelling has improved, but I still wonder that St. Martin’s Press would have purchased the manuscript. Author Lowe shows substantial progress in his craftsmanship, but he’s still writing at a high amateur level, in my opinion.

This time out, retired Miami police detective Sean O’Brien is contacted by an old friend, a Catholic priest. The priest tells him he has been told by a prisoner—who was recently wounded by a sniper while on the way to testify in a drug trial—that a man O’Brien himself put on death row for the murder of his girlfriend is in fact innocent. The prisoner will soon give the priest a written confession, detailing where vital evidence is hidden.

But soon both the prisoner and the priest have been murdered, and O’Brien, conscience-stricken that he might bear responsibility for the execution of an innocent man—works against the clock to unravel a convoluted mystery before the date of execution. Continue reading The 24th Letter, by Tom Lowe

Not Quitting Their Day Jobs

Dave Astor describes the gainful employment of many authors, not as professors and journalists, but as clerks and anthropologists. For example, Anthony Trollope worked in the British post office. (via Books, Inq.)

Night Vision, by Paul Levine

This wasn’t bad. Although I found things to dislike in Paul Levine’s second Jake Lassiter novel, Night Vision, I also found things that pleased me. So I may possibly read another.

In this outing, Miami lawyer Jake Lassiter, having (apparently) recovered from the tragic loss of the love of his life in the last book, so completely that he now never thinks of her at all, is called in by an ambitious district attorney to act as special prosecutor in the murder of a local female TV reporter, strangled while engaging in sex talk over the internet. Jake, along with Charlie Riggs, his retired pathologist friend, is soon embroiled in a serial killer investigation, and along the way Jake meets a beautiful English psychologist who becomes a romantic interest. But who can he trust? Somebody’s telling a lot of lies and laying a lot of false tracks. Continue reading Night Vision, by Paul Levine

Odd Interlude, 1, 2, and 3, by Dean Koontz


Such genuine trust, so sweetly expressed, bears witness to an innocence in the human heart that endures even in this broken world and that longs to ring the bell backward and undo the days of history until all such trust would be justified in a world started anew and as it always should have been.

There’s a large company of readers for whom a new Dean Koontz book is always cause for rejoicing. But more than that, a new Odd Thomas book is cause for double rejoicing. The wandering fry cook from Pico Mundo, California is Koontz’s greatest creation, one of the most perfect depictions of actual saintliness ever conceived by an author. Not the common conception of saintliness—stuffy and judgmental—but the actual, biblical kind—humble, gentle, and quietly courageous.

Odd Interlude is an “odd” entry in the series. It’s a novella, offered in three installments, One, Two, and Three, sold for Kindle at $1.99 each, partly to raise interest in Odd Apocalypse, a new novel coming later this year. As if we needed motivation. Continue reading Odd Interlude, 1, 2, and 3, by Dean Koontz

If Necessary, Use a Real Quote

Glenn Stanton writes about a popular quotation that isn’t something he actually said: FactChecker: Misquoting Francis of Assisi. Francis preached the gospel with words often, but he did emphasize the need for personal devotion before preaching, so that his true passion for the Lord will pour forth in his public speech and actions.

Netflix review: Luther

It is a fact generally acknowledged, that the English do cerebral television better than the Americans, and Americans do action better than the English. But the two things aren’t necessarily mutually contradictory, as you may see by watching the BBC series Luther, available now on Netflix. It was first recommended to me by Gene Edward Veith at his Cranach blog. You can read his thoughtful review here.

I’m not sure about all the theological conclusions Dr. Veith draws—it seems to me that biblical and Christian references are bound to show up in any literate script, even in our day. But I entirely agree on the narrative power of this superlative cop series. Continue reading Netflix review: Luther

Batman, the Sacrificial Hero

Kevin Marks writes about the struggles in The Dark Knight and No Country for Old Men on Reel Spirituality: “Batman, a creature of the night anyway, becomes now ‘the dark knight,’ assuming the blame for the evil unleashed upon Gotham by The Joker, in order that faith be restored in a criminal justice system, and the fear that grips those who walk home in the dark can at least be alleviated by knowing that the police are back in power, and are now chasing the bizarro Batman/savior figure for his crime of turning against those he had sworn to protect.”

Heroic sacrifice is an epic theme. It was touched on in the Spiderman movies, though not hammered like the responsibility angle. It’s what Saving Private Ryan tried to tell us. Perhaps we’ll see the theme carry the story in the next Batman movie.

Where’s My Son? by John C. Dalglish

Where’s My Son? by John C. Dalglish is a police procedural with a terrific premise. It also has the virtue of being (judging from a few hints in the text) a Christian novel that doesn’t preach. Unfortunately, it also exhibits a number of first novel weaknesses. I think the author may be capable of much better stuff.

The story starts well (from one perspective), balancing three horrifying plot strands. An amoral operation in false adoptions retains a felon to find and steal a baby for them. A childless couple suffers the heartbreak of multiple miscarriages. And a pair of loving new parents do not know they are being watched, and their lives are about to be torn apart.

It’s only once the kidnapping has been committed that the book’s hero is actually introduced (this, by the way, is in most cases a mistake. Authors are usually well advised to bring the main character in as early as possible). Here the hero is Detective Jason Strong who, sadly, does not live up to his surname. He’s hard-working and compassionate, but he comes off pretty stiff. No back story, no private life. Some readers don’t care about such matters in a good puzzle mystery, but this isn’t a puzzle mystery. It’s a police procedural in which we know whodunit before the detective does. Another problem is that Detective Strong doesn’t actually do much detecting. He follows leads, but his big breaks come from luck. That may be true to life, but it weakens a novel. The fact that he prays for guidance at one point is what tipped me off that this is a book by a Christian.

There are also a number of stylistic problems. At one point, two characters meet and just waste time:

“Hi, Wade. How ya doing?”

“Good, you?”

They shook hands.

Tip for authors: Unless some major clue is going to be dropped in the course of two characters greeting each other, just say, “They said hello and shook hands,” or something like that. Or skip the greeting altogether. The reader will know they went through the pleasantries. It just slows your story down.

At another point, a character is thinking about his wife, and in the next paragraph we’re told the same character “let his mind wander” to her. It doesn’t need to wander that way if he’s already thinking of her.

Most disappointing is the ending. Sudden and spare, it reads more like a synopsis point than a fiction passage. This relates to the weakness of Det. Strong’s character. If he had a life and friends, he’d have someone to bounce his decision off, and the scene would have a lot more resonance.

All in all, a good try. I wish the author the best as he improves his craft. Caution for a few passages of strong language.

Book Reviews, Creative Culture