Tag Archive | fan fiction

Shows That Need to Happen: Red John (Part 2 of 2)

Part 2: What would a Red John show look like?

You know you really a like show if you fantacize about ways to continue it. I thoroughly enjoyed The Mentalist, especially Seasons 1-5.5 – basically up until Red John was executed by the Patrick Jane.  The character of Patrick Jane played by Simon Baker is pretty awesome and well-rounded, and he had a great team to work with.

Here’s my vision of what a continuation of the story would look like:

  • It would be called Red John, not The Mentalist. As I’ve stated in Part 1 of these posts, the appeals and uniqueness of The Mentalist had a lot to do with Red John. Without the hunt for him, the series petered out quickly and did not work as a normal procedural drama.
  • It would consist of a limited number of episdes. 24 to comprise one “season” or “series.” Much more than that would compromise the “chase” of Red John that should be the focus.
  • Red John doesn’t have to be the “Red John” of The Mentalist. That is, the Red John caught and killed can stay dead. It’s not necessary to go back and make it look like Patrick Jane killed the wrong man. However, this would be a good ploy for the first couple of episodes, highlighting the doubt that may still be in Jane and the audience. Also, no bureau infiltration. That just got ridiculous after awhile. More of a straight chess match this time.
  • Put the California Bureau of Investigation back together. Since Cho has moved up in the FBI, a good plot could be to have “Red John” murders start springing up in California again ideally resulting in an FBI task force that combines with the local police force and the old CBI gang, all with Cho as the head. It could be even a reestablished CBI under the FBI’s jurisdiction.
  • Red John, whoever he is, needs to be a mentalist in a similar vein as Patrick Jane. In The Mentalist series, this element wasn’t pushed enough when it came to the villain. His powers of persuasion were alluded to on sporadic occasion but not shown in a definitive manner, like the tricks Patrick Jane uses to con people into confessing. It’s why Sheriff McAllistar didn’t work. He was never shown to have an almost supernaturnal ability over other people in which Jane could illustrate that there are no real psychics. This was somewhat attempted with the list of seven suspects, but never came to fruition, in my opinion, and the list itself seemed a let down.
  • Keep the awesome other villains. When it wasn’t about Red John, The Mentalist had some pretty good villains and absolutely chilling episodes. My favorite episode is when Jane comes across a serial killer who pretends to be investigating the murder of a girl he killed. Jane takes him down on TV by getting him to arrogantly denounce Red John, with the knowledge that Red John can’t take criticism and will kill him. Villains that could definitely get a couple more episodes are temptress and dating expert Erika Flynn (Firefly’s Morena Baccarin) and sociopath power broker Tommy Volker (LOST’s Henry Ian Cusick). These villains could be in cahoots with the new Red John or just red herrings and/or informants.
  • A romance for Cho. He and Summer were so awesome and had great chemistry. It was sad they couldn’t be together and it would be fun to watch him try again with another unlikely lady.
  • Let Van Pelt and Rigsby show off all their new spy skills and gear. It would be interesting to have Red John target their kids (and the adults terrified) only to have him be one-upped by these future agents and well-trained munchkins. The Rigsby’s would totally be Spy Kids.
  • Let Lisbon and Patrick Jane fall for each other all over again doing what they do best: hunting and catching killers. The show should highlight how it is the best line of work for them to be in. And altough Jane is generally hands off to the “action” part of the investigation and police game, it would be fun to see him be more physically active, perhaps in an effort to show how invested he is in beating the villain not for revenge, but to protect those around him. And perhaps to highlight how getting his revenge in the previous series has changed him – as has fixing up that run-down cabin he bought. He would have built up muscle and dexterity doing so.
  • Jane vs. John. Not that the team can’t deal with other mysteries/cases at the same time, but the hunt for this new Red John, should be the focus. The use of both Jane’s brain and skills should be combined with everything he taught the original CBI team. His quirky ways can be introduced to new members as well, just not in the boring FBI building/setting in which The Mentalist ended.
  • A wham bam ending not dependant on the guessing of Red John’s identity. The long-term arc in The Mentalist worked so well because it played into our love of psycological thrill. This could be the ultimate in that genre. Is Patrick Jane really good at what he does, or was it just because he was out for revenge? Will he work within the law this time around to catch the killer? How would he deal with a Red John copycat who knows everything about the case, is far better at manipulating people?
  • Sign on the original cast and add local precinct detectives who first run across this new Red John. Ideally these newbies would be played by Christian Bale (I’m a little biased, as he’s my favorite actor) and Zoe Saldana, both of whom would be excellent at playing detectives and have awesome onscreen chemistry.

So how would it all start?

Since this musing is pretty much fan fiction, let me describe how I would open a Red John show. Please excuse my self-indulgence, but I just couldn’t help it. The Mentalist was such a good show and got my imagination going.:

I’d work with a slow burn kind of storytelling instead of opting for the newer tradition of starting with an action scene straight away, or a thrilling scene from the middle of the episode and then going back to the beginning. Sometimes it’s just a breath of fresh air to start at the begining.

First scene: A pretty twenty-something woman waiting at a busy L.A. precinct to see a detective. She has a tip and looks as if she could be a journalist or a journalism student. She has a fresh, peaceful air reminiscent of Lorelai Martens’ first scene where she talks about comfort in her faith in Red John. She first interacts with a senior woman homicide detective – let’s call her X (I would cast Saldana) who offers to help her. The woman insists she wants the detective’s partner (Y) (who I would cast as Christian Bale). Detective X tells her it’s going to be awhile, and with a laugh in her voice yells to her partner that he has a new crush who wants to see him. Detective Y is dealing with a precinst disturbance, unruly criminals or something like that. The journalist puts a small snarl on her face after the female detectie leaves the desk and sits down to wait. In her lap is a sheaf of paper notes along with photos. We see she has scribbled serial killer? Trademark? and other questions in the margins of the papers.

Cut back to Y who is now finished with his crisis, but the young woman is gone. He shrugs and gets called to an emergency/crime scene (perhaps one that tantalizingly appears to be the work of Tommy Volker (though he’s still in prison – or he could be out for good behavior, has pulled strings or whatever). In the early morning when he gets off shift, the journalist surprises Y just as he’s unlocking his car. She asks if he has some time to discuss information she has. Y agrees, noting she’s pretty, and suggests they go for coffee.

Cut to a college or university on the East Coast, where a ciminial profiling or psychology class is beginning. The professor briefly introduces the Red John serial killer and notes that they had invited Patrick Jane to speak, but who declines for personal reasons. In his place is agent Kimball Cho of the FBI. Cho, looking very important indeed, steps up and gives his talk with the students asking questions. A few of the students ask questions designed to unsettled Cho, such as “could Red John be still alive?” and so on. Many students are too insterested in the killer, clearly living in the “ghoul” factor of Brett Patridge from episode one of The Mentalist. A couple stand out as possible Red John acolytes (one could actually be the new Red John if one wants to go that route). Cho’s expression shows disappointment and a little bit of worry.

Open the next scene on a birthday party at the Jane household’s mostly remodeled cabin. Patrick Jane looks sublimely happy as he does magic tricks for his one year old’s birthday party. Rigby and Van Pelt are in attendance, also looking happy, as are their kids. Lisbon serves snacks and asks Rigsby if Cho was able to get away for the party. Rigsby says he had a thing out East, but caught an early flight that should have him landing soon. When Jane is done with the magic show he comes over to hug Lisbon, and also asks about Cho, though his expression is grim. The friends joke around for a bit and then the doorbell rings. Cho has arrived and looks exhausted. Jane offers to get him a drink, and, all smiles, asks him how it went in a soft voice. He doesn’t want Lisbon or any of the others overhearing. Cho says it’s the same as always, same questions, disturbing interest in Red John. Jane states crisply that Red John was a nobody. Cho agrees and Jane says he’s glad the killer is dead. Cho asks how much more family leave the Jane’s have. Jane says only a couple of more weeks and back to the grindstone. Cho comments how they have been missed and how cases aren’t getting closed. He says he misses the old CBI. Jane says nothing, reluctant to talk about the subject. He steers Cho away into a party trick and getting all the kids excited about a pony or whatever.

Back to the L.A. detective meeting at a dinner with the woman who tells him she’s a journalist for on online magazine that discuss local crime trends. A couple of murders in the L.A. area caught her attention and she started digging into the past and other cases that to her seem similar. The detective humors her as she goes through the facts, but clearly does not believe her, saying they get tips like this all the time. He tells her people like to look for patterns to make sense of death and adds that no sense to it, just murder and chaos. The journalist says she thinks she knows where another murder is going to take place, though doesn’t know who. She asks the detective to follow up on this. He looks at the location, saying it’s a bad or remote part of town. She asks again and he takes the papers and says he’ll think about it. She looks relieved and tells him she’ll bring more information. To her and to the viewers it’s obvious he doesn’t intend to pursue the tip.

Cut to scenes involving Cho’s current work with the FBI, how they are struggling without Patrick Jane, but were struggling with him before he and Lisbon went on leave. Cho and his boss discuss the fac that the FBI isn’t the right place for Jane, but that the government still wants to use his abilities and are still obligating him to work for them in some capacities to keep murder charges at bay. Cho remarks that this cage would be better if it was some place Jane wanted to be. Cho’s boss says that Jane is a born detective and that he’ll get there. Cho says he hates to say it, but Jane was at his best going after Red John. “Then we need another Red John,” the FBI boss says. Cho’s expression sinks and he says he would rather Jane risk a murder charge by failing to fulfill his obligation to the government.

Back at the L.A. precinct, Detective X asks her partner how his night was. Y says he talked to that crush and it’s another silly tip on a serial killer. X remarks that serial killers are coming out of the woodwork these days and sighs, saying everyone wants to be a detective. They discuss the previous day’s crime scene in detail, bouncing ideas off of each other and flirting in the process.

Cut to the Jane residence where it’s a Sunday afternoon, but instead of doing the newspaper crossword, Jane is actually solving each and every unknown crime listed in the articles, even noting in the margins that a woman writing to Ann Landers is obviously having an affair. Lisbon catches him in the act and when he shrugs she holds up a detective novel she’s reading on which she’s made her own notes detailing the mistakes made and who dunnit. They smile at each other and lean in for a kiss only to be interrupted by their cute-as-a-button offspring who’s markered all over himself — or something to that effect. Cut to cleaning/house remodeling scenes and then them sitting on the porch and night where they both declare they are happy, so happy. Their eyes tell a different story, however, with looks of boredom and dissatisfaction.

Show a scene where the young journalist prepares to go out at night. She looks at her notes and takes a deep breath in the mirror. In her bag, she included a taser, gun, or weapon of some kind. She is made up to look her best, almost for a date. Cut to her again walking into the same L.A. precinct that is chaotic as usual. She asks for the male detective, but he is out. She nervously leaves an envelope for him at the front desk, saying it’s another tip. She appears scared and says goodbye to the sargeant at the desk as if she is heading to her death.

The next scene shows the harried Detective Y coming back from a suspect interview or what have you (could even show the interview scene). He gets stopped by the desk sargeant who gives him the envelope. Y smiles and shakes his head. He heads to the office he and his partner Detective X share. She is finishing yelling at someone on the phone. Y asks whose heart X’s mother has broken this week. X states that her mother never stops looking for true love. “That pretty much sums up humanity.” He jokes back. He settles into his desk and looks through some paperwork and emails, finally settling on the envelope left by the journalist. His partner asks what it is. “You know that crush from last week? She left me another love note.” “Like you said, we’re all looking for true love,” X says back. When Y opens the envelope and starts to read the contents his expression becomes one of dread. X, who has started munching at her takeout dinner, asks what’s wrong. “This isn’t a tip,” Y says, “it’s a murder in progress.” He throws his badge (maybe he wears it around his neck) and/or coat and stormes out the door with the X in his wake asking him what’s going on.

Action scene with them both racing to get to the location the journalist previously showed Y. They shoult questions and answers back and forth and from their conversation Y thinks that either the journalist is committing the murder or going to be murdered. (To up the thrill factor could intercut this scene and the scene before with shots of the journalist nervously waiting for someone in a dark and remote part of the city). They make it to the location and find the journalist daed, with her body slashed up and Red John’s smiley face on the wall. The music gets louder as their eyes fasten on the smiley face with both horror and curiosity.

That would be the big climax of the episode, then it would go into the detectives trying to figure this out, and their superiors assuming it is Red John and informing the FBI. Cho meets with X and Y and all three hit it off and it’s obvious to him that the two work well together and are whip-smart. Jane is mentioned and Y states how he used to do magic tricks as a kid. Cho remarks that mentalist work is a little more advanced than that. At first, Cho and his FBI team work on the case with the L.A. detectives, but a couple of the FBI team members end of dead and it is then when the FBI boss says they have to bring Jane in. He or she (whoever is cast or kept on from the previous show) apologizes to Cho, saying they wish they’d never said anything about Red John.

Cho takes on the task of breaking the news to Jane and Lisbon. He is so worked up and spends so long hesitating that Detective X, having sympathy and compassion for him, says she’ll do it. The last scene of the episode could be her waiting at the Jane residence (perhaps she can see them happily cooking together or something through the windows) and knocking on the door. Patrick Jane answers, and being who he is, knows instantly why she is there. His expression says it all: Knowledge that there’s no way Red John could be resurrected. Fear that he is wrong in that and fear for his family. A spark of excitement at the thought of a new worthy opponent. Dun, dun, dun! Credits.

Whew!  You made it!

So that’s how I would begin, but I’m sure professional TV writers could do much better and also fill in more of the details. Thanks for reading.

Jane Austen fan fiction: Death Comes to Pemberley and Longbourn

Death Comes to PemberleyLately, I’ve been on a Jane Austen fan fiction kick.  Austenland was an entertaining movie and great book, so I decided to check out the BBC version of P.D. James’s Death Comes to Pemberly.

Death Comes to Pemberley has good and bad about it.  The good:  Matthew Goode is the perfect Wickham and I wish we could go back in time a few years and have him play Wickham in the Keira Knightley version.  I also enjoyed Lydia and Mr. and Mrs. Bennett.  All four of these characters seemed more or less as if they’d walked off of the pages of P&P.  Also good, the mystery itself proved layered and intriguing, and the characters, like Sir Hardcastle (Trevor Eve, who looks eerily like Ben Franklin in this role), lawyer Henry Galveston (James Norton of Happy Valley), and Louisa Bidwell (Nichola Burley) were great additions to the P&P world.  Mr. Darcy, played by Matthew Rhys seemed more or less himself, except perhaps a bit too severe in manner considering he’s been married to the love of his life for a few years now.

The bad: Elizabeth Darcy.  Anna Maxwell Martin (Becoming Jane, North & South, The Bletchley Circle) is a stellar actress, and perfect for most period films and shows.  As Elizabeth Darcy née Bennett, however, she is outright miscast, not only in looks, but also in manner.  Everyone pictures characters differently in their heads, but I never once thought of any of the Bennetts as being especially skinny.  They like good food, parties, balls, and sit for hours on end reading, sewing, etc.  A plump or healthy looking Elizabeth with rosy cheeks, and a face that draws the attention from everyone else in the room would make more sense.  Mr. Bennett married his silly wife because she had great looks, and everything in P&P insinuates that all of the girls, especially Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia (and perhaps excepting Mary) inherited those same good looks.  Martin is good looking in her own right, but is by no means an Elizabeth Bennet/Darcy.  One cannot imagine her catching Darcy’s eye at all.

Besides that, her Elizabeth looks tired all the time and as if she has lost her enjoyment in life, has almost no wit to speak of, and no sense of style when it comes to dress.  This was such a glaring casting (and costuming) error, I have to wonder what the casting director and producers were thinking.  A better choice, though maybe not as well known, would have been Daniela Denbe-Ashe of the wonderful North & South (book by Elizabeth Gaskell), as suggested by an imdb.com user (I love reading the message boards on that site).  She has the right looks and also the right manner of someone who is unused to hardship, going by her great performance as Margaret Hale in North & South, which holds many similarities to Pride and Prejudice.

Being fan fiction, the Death Comes to Pemberley as a whole is not “Austen.”  Not that murder should ever be taken lightly, but it is possible to tell a light-hearted murder mystery, which would have suited this flattery to the classical author much better.  The whole love of Austen’s books has not much to do with how realistically she described the dirtiness or suffering of the times in which she lived, but her comic wit and spot on characters who are situated specifically in an upper class sort of life that doesn’t dive down into the mud.  Austen specifically chose to write this way, and refers to harsher realities only obliquely.  Making the stories “real” and in general depressing, is the key mistake that most Austen fan fiction writers make.  Jane Austen’s stories, although holding many truths, are light-hearted, generally follow and poke fun at Regency life, and are marked first and foremost by her amazing wit, and beyond that, her brevity.  The characters are never in any real danger, except of being lost to “good” society.  The miniseries was an improvement upon the actual Death Comes to Pemberly book by P.D. James, whose long-windedness and misunderstanding of Austen’s appeal made it impossible for me to get through even a chapter.

LongbournLongbourn by Jo Baker.  Much of the same criticisms I have for P.D. James hold true for this work as well.  The novel started out promising, P&P told from the viewpoint of the servants, but all too quickly the long descriptions begin to wear, as do the unnecessary knife digs at the family whom the servants serve.  In our modern eyes, servanthood appears to be a great evil, and this is continually the thrust of Baker’s tale. Her assumption is that the servants are unhappy with their work and station in life.  Cataloguing the woes and difficulties of being a Regency era servant could be an interesting tale, it’s just something that doesn’t jive with the original P&P story, and has more the effect of a long diatribe trying to make modern readers feel guilty for past so-called sins of their ancestors.

Longbourn revels in dirt, mud, chamber pots, and pages of description that bog the story down and you only remember it’s the story of P&P when Baker remembers to mention the girls’ soiled menstrual cloths.  Where is the delight that Jane Austen took in the world despite the troubles in it?  Where is her wit, her brevity, her wonderfully drawn characters who are happily and comically flawed?  It is as if Baker were plagued with Dorothea Brooke-itis from Middlemarch (by George Eliot), wherein she considers suffering of the lower classes to be the only virtue and the only thing worth remedying, and that enjoying life (like the Bennetts generally do) is somehow a sin, as is poking fun at ridiculous characters, like Mr. Collins, when they are behaving both ridiculously and rudely.

In this sense, Longbourn is no compliment to Austen, but a backhanded slap.  So what if Austen didn’t regale us on the suffering (debatable) servant class or other classes?  It doesn’t follow that she had no sympathy for their various plights, or that her own class was free of worry or trouble in the world.  Everyone suffers in this world, no matter their station.  The character of a person, their outlook on life, their faith, their hope, what they love, all contribute to their happiness in the world.  Some people are never happy no matter their station, and some are ecstatic in whatever sphere they find themselves. We don’t have to, like Dorothea Brooke, feel guilty about enjoying where we are in life, even if we are middle or upper class.  We don’t have to, like Hermione Granger of Harry Potter, interfere on behalf of lower classes that may actually not want our help, classes that may actually enjoy their station in life and resent our good intentions.  This is the “people’s history” of Pride and Prejudice, in which we are scolded for enjoying any frivolous pursuits, especially novels of humor, wit, and a love story where the main characters end up happy and (shock) do not consider daily their dear, saintly suffering servants.

I gave up on this book about halfway through.  Had it been a book apart from P&P, I think I still wouldn’t have finished it, mostly due to the too-long descriptions.  There is a saying that “brevity is the soul of wit,” and this is so true when considering Austen’s works.  Emma is the longest novel, but they all are rather short compared with modern doorstop tomes.  Describing things in detail for pages on end isn’t necessarily good writing, and most certainly not good storytelling.  I, too, am plagued with purple prose from time to time and it is a difficult vice to shake.  One thing I will say for Baker: what a great idea for a fan fic, and refreshing compared to other works that feature the main P&P characters, but botch them abominably.  Her attitude towards the Bennetts in this book is a bit mean spirited, but she managed to portray them more or less accurately.

On another note, I am super excited for the BBC presentation of Pride & Prejudice and Zombies!  It’s fan fiction as well, but the book kept up a spirit of lightheartedness and fun throughout, despite the rotting flesh descriptions and wounds that made me too ill to my stomach to continue beyond Elizabeth’s ninja attack on Mr. Darcy.  Visually, my stomach isn’t quite so queasy and I think this flattery to Austen might be the most complimentary yet.