[Disgust Emoji] · [Expletives] · [GIF Of Something On Fire]
But also "Sophie," lawsuits, James Hogue, and a cozy art heist
the true crime that's worth your time
Hello, readers. Bit of a rough one yesterday in the headlines, eh what? It’s unlikely to get cheerier in this edition, I’m afraid, so a few reminders before we get into the round-up proper:
It’s okay to tag out! We love having you here, but if you simply cannot with recent developments, go look at Pomeranian TikTok or something. (I’ve got PomTok recs if you need them.) If and when you’re ready…
Our archive is here for you. Not to mention that it’s our job to filter the cocktail of true-crime content. Like…kidneys? Pretty sure that comparison doesn’t work, but we do come in a pair and we can dismantle an Old-Fashioned with a quickness so let’s just go with it.
We believe women. We believe survivors.
Please take care of yourselves. We’ll leave a light on for you. — SDB
The June 2021 bonus review for you fancy paid-subscription types went up last night with minutes to spare. I didn’t dislike the Missing On 9/11 podcast, but something about the approach isn’t working for me, although I do plan to keep listening for a while longer. Here’s a snip:
Subtract the sponsors and the next-ons and you’re down to around 23 minutes; for an investigative podcast, that’s actually not a lot of time to move the story. Walczak et al. seem to realize this, and occasionally there’s a burst of “well so let’s rule out a theory or two” that can feel like momentum, but one of these sequences has its own issues, namely Walczak’s confident assertion that Sneha can’t have been the victim of a coincidentally perfect murder because no body has ever turned up. W…hat?
To read more — plus all the other bonus reviews behind the paywall — grab yourselves a paid sub.
On to July’s bonus-review topic, selected by y’all this week: Generation Hustle, an HBO Max original I’m really looking forward to digging into. Look out for that in a few weeks! — SDB
I also reviewed Sophie: A Murder In West Cork over at Primetimer, and while I recommend it overall, its attempts to center Sophie Toscan du Plantier aren’t entirely successful. Here’s part of my theory on how narcissistic defendants will leverage even narrative indictments of that narcissism to put themselves at the hearts of stories:
This is what the OJs and [Ian] Baileys of the world do: they leverage their narcissism with self-pitying libel suits and performative griping about "uneducated" small-town police, and I think the docuseries knows that. I also think that you can't have it both ways, and that showing how badly Bailey needs attention means giving him attention — attention that isn't on Sophie, her work, or her family.
Sophie is well built and at times very affecting — not to mention effectively scathing re: the prime suspect’s habit of declaiming his doggerel in the local pubs. But the man sucks all the air out of the cultural room, in the end. Aaaagain. — SDB
“So she’ll serve more than Cos” is how Eve characterized yesterday’s sentencing of Allison Mack. I wish I could contradict that prediction, but…I can’t. Mack got three years in the federal pen for her role in “the scandal-ridden, cult-like group NXIVM,” namely that she “manipulated women into becoming sex slaves for the group’s spiritual leader,” Keith Raniere.
Mack denounced Raniere in court, and thanks to that and to her cooperation, she got a fraction of the time she could have faced:
Under advisory sentencing guidelines, Mack would face between 14 and 17 1/2 years behind bars, but her defense team argued in court papers that probation or a sentence to home confinement is more appropriate. Prosecutors had agreed that any prison term should be below the guidelines range because of her cooperation.
Mack has spent the last three years under house arrest at her parents’ home and has also worked as a caterer, which is a punishment IME, albeit an insufficient one. It’s unclear to me where Mack is headed — probably Danbury, if I had to guess? — but feel free to update us if I missed that detail. — SDB
…All right, let’s get into it with the shitheads who get to stay out: Cosby and James Franco. I don’t have much to say about the Cosby miscarriage that others haven’t said better/with fewer swears. I don’t have much to say about Phylicia Rashad, either, but she’s far from the only (sadly unsurprising) disappointment pissing out of the pro-Cos-celeb tent; a certain hip-hop legend who lived in my hometown for a while needs to do better. Here’s a rundown of high-profile tweets from Revolt.
Elsewhere, James Franco bought himself out of trouble with a $2.2 million settlement in “a pair of lawsuits, including one from two former students of his acting school who said he had subjected them to sexually exploitative auditions and film shoots.” The remainder of the settlement addresses charges of fraud from former students of the school. Franco did not admit wrongdoing as part of the settlement.
And why shouldn’t pro sports get in on the “filling us with revulsion” act? Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher Trevor Bauer, a Trump supporter and Twitter pest whom we Met fans narrowly avoided having to deal with (happy Bobby Bonilla Day, by the way), is under investigation for sexual assault. Bauer (or, rather, his agent) is going with the “she liked it rough” defense and claims he has receipts to back up that assertion.
…God, I’m exhausted with this fuckery. — SDB
Tyler Skaggs’s family has filed multiple lawsuits against the Los Angeles Angels. Skaggs’s widow has filed in California, while his parents filed in Texas. Skaggs died of an overdose during a road trip in 2019. The basic thrust of the suits is that the Angels organization was negligent in allowing communications director Eric Kay access to Skaggs; Craig Calcaterra, as always, provides a fantastic overview in yesterday’s Cup Of Coffee newsletter. Kay goes on trial himself in August, and these various proceedings have MLB and baseball fans holding their breath to see what’s revealed, if anything, about the extent of an opioid problem in baseball.
Anaheim didn’t keep us in suspense as to whether they’d treat a grieving family in search of answers with a modicum of respect, though; the club immediately issued a statement 1) pointing to their own investigation as having cleared them of involvement in or responsibility for Skaggs’s death and 2) slamming the allegations as “baseless and irresponsible.” This is a self-destructively idiotic response, as Calcaterra points out, since those sorts of investigations are all but meaningless — not to mention that maybe a more “we’re sorry you feel that way” approach is better PR, regardless of whether you think the plaintiffs’ attorneys/prosecutors in Kay’s proceeding have anything probative? Just agree that the death was a tragedy and you hope everyone will find answers. Better yet, shut the hell up, since your track record of vetting hires is deplorable.
(Did I think about ending this section with that Dylan Bundy GIF? You bet I did. (Emetophobes, don’t Google it. Trust me.)) — SDB
The Duke hits theaters in September. And it sounds like Buntnip, not least because it centers on a taxi driver named Kempton Bunton stealing a Goya from the National Gallery, then demanding a ransom involving…free television? Jim Broadbent stars as Bunton, Helen Mirren plays his wife, and the rest of the cast list is packed with appealing names (Matthew Goode, Sian Clifford). Enjoy this palate-cleansing trailer:
I’d never heard of the case, somehow; the Daily Mail had a catch-up on the real-life figures a couple weeks ago, including a theory on what really went down — and one of the most glorious noses ever captured on film. — SDB
Every now and then, I like to return to a case of my (relative) youth: identity thief James Hogue. I mean, he’s just an all-around thief, really, and the fact that he was inviting freshman girls to his dorm room while impersonating a college sophomore is quease-making. But he’s a fascinating figure, and a comparatively “light” escape from current headlines. Start with David Samuels’s New Yorker profile; you can also rent a doc on Hogue, Con Man (I reviewed it here if you want to check that out before getting spendy); and the Princeton Alumni Weekly likes to resurrect Hogue for clicks every now and again.
“Resurrect” is just a figure of speech; Hogue is very much alive, and still racking up the law-enforcement contact as of January of this year. And guess where Hogue began his imposturing career? Palo Alto High School, alma mater of…James Franco. Verde Magazine, PAHS’s “news and features publication,” has a longread on Hogue from 2017. — SDB
Friday on Best Evidence: Not sure yet! Suggestions always welcome…
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