Over the decades, I’ve sat through a lot of bad true crime shows. Netflix’s dreadful Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel takes the cake.
Twenty-five years ago, The New Detectives was my favorite TV show. If memory serves, it aired on the Discovery Channel late on Saturday nights. Never missed an episode. A couple of years later, The FBI Files aired right after. It was two hours of true crime heaven/perfect Saturday evening.
I love this genre, and the True Crime product produced of late — now that the rest of the country has finally caught up with me — has been great. True crime is everywhere. There are cable and broadcast channels devoted to it. And why not? Truth is more interesting than fiction, human nature is fascinating, and these shows have it all: mystery, death, good guys, bad guys. Or, at least they did until Netflix came