Tag: Netflix

Read More

The West Cork Murder Case

It has become my summer obsession: The murder of Sophie Toscan du Plantier in a remote area of West Cork, Ireland, 1996. A French woman, wealthy, attractive, and free-spirited, spending a Christmas holiday alone in her remote Irish cottage turned up dead. No, not dead. Savagely murdered. Bludgeoned with multiple rocks and a cinder block, her nightclothes snagged in brambles, and her body laid open to the sky on the edge of a dirt driving path.

It all happened in an area where murders are incredibly rare, and the rage exacted on her body was so savage that this alone defies explanation. But it gets stranger. It seems that Sophie was fairly reclusive and very few locals knew anything about her. No one knows who might have the motive or opportunity. No one knows what she did with her days, or what her trip was about. No one (save for the murderer) seems to have seen anything pertinent. No physical evidence points to the culprit. Almost nothing about the case makes sense. The whole thing is one of the most curious circumstances I’ve ever researched.

Read More

the Novel “Rebecca” should never again be adapted into a movie

Sweeping landscapes, luscious costumes, and Armie Hammer’s chiseled jaw were so enchanting in the most recent film adaptation of the novel, Rebecca, that I frothed at the chance to see the plot unfold. The Netflix production value alone promised decadent wickedness and a gorgeously ghoulish tale that could sweep anyone on to the lawns of the seaside manor.

Unfortunately, my visual enthrallment didn’t anticipate the inevitable flaw in scribing such a modern adaptation. The writers fell into the trap of imagining the novel as something other than it was. Rebecca was never a sweeping romance that was twisted by anger and spite and ghosts. Yet, the 2020 adaptation did its best to shape and cram Rebecca’s characters into a mold, pounding and twisting them until they fit into a haunted template that might appeal to test groups. Naturally, the problem is that Daphne Du Maurier’s tale can’t sustain such brutality without losing and utterly transforming itself. Oddly enough, much like the heroine of the tale.
(Spoilers Ahead)