I watched 2 pieces on Netflix the other day. One was a short, part of a Halloween series, dedicated to the horror genre. The other was a murder mystery set in Victorian London about a serial killer and the marginalized detective out to find the killer.

We watched the Halloween series first and in it, truly for the first episode, I was watching and thinking how like the others in its genre it was. Which isn’t bad. In many ways an entertainment is always about delivering to expectations. But somewhere along the way, there was that inkling in your head that something isn’t quite as it seems. And the feeling intensified, until you realized the victim wasn’t the victim but the hunter.

It was brilliant really, until I realized that kinda set the theme for all the episodes, then the novelty wore off.

The second mystery was very good as well. It starts mid murder spree and the switching of an up and coming for a side-lined detective, one who can be sacrificed on the altar of public opinion when the murders fail to be solved. It just so happens that one of the suspects has recently been poisoned by his wife (who is currently on trial for her life). The detective is sure to save her, if only he can determine that he husband was the killer and she poisoned him to save her life. All clues point to this, and more. But then there’s a twist, and it is revealed that she isn’t a lamb about to go meekly to the slaughter.

I loved it. The hubbinator hated it.

Which just goes to show you can please all of the people all of the time:D

Until next time.