We were delighted when crime
writer Mark Timlin joined Shots Magazine as one of our reviewers. Though he’s still
occasionally writing about Sarf-London bad-boy Private Investigator Nick
Sharman; like many of us he’s locked-down [in a secret location with Literary
public relations impresario Lucy Ramsey and a
violent cat], due to the ubiquity of this Covid-19 situation – he spends his
free time, reading and watching crime thrillers – it’s a busman’s holiday.
You can read some of his recent book reviews HERE
As a old fan of Mark Timlin’s writing, here’s some
background on his work CLICK
HERE
If you missed Mark’s seasonal tale “Merry
Christmas, Baby” which we serialised here, just before COVID became ‘a
thing’ –
Part One HERE
Part Two HERE
I have to thank many writers, including Mark Timlin - as
his violent [and thought provoking] tales of Nick Sharman, got me through some
difficult times, though when I think back to who I was then, it
was indeed a lifetime ago.
Stephen King wrote a maxim in his non-fiction work ‘On
Writing’ – one that I hold firm within my own value system - one that is now so
very important while we contemplate the isolation, the loneliness we find ourselves
in, due to the pernicious nature of Covid-19 – and how to cope, with Books and
TV drama.
“Life isn't a support system for art. It's the
other way around.”
It was with Mark Timlin, Mike Stotter and many friends and colleagues
that I finally got to meet Stephen King, again a lifetime ago but a memory that
makes me smile.
With the event over, Timlin and I strolled
outside to get some air. And as we were talking, Kerry Hood and Phillipa Pride
exited in company with King, for whom a car had already been summoned. Kerry
introduced Stephen King to Mark Timlin, and then turned to introduce me, but
the wordsmith from Maine smiled and said, “I’ve met Ali, and he’s a funny guy.”
Nice touch. And one that I’ll remember for the rest of my days. For a
moment--maybe just one--I was no longer some middle-aged dude. Instead, I was
that fanboy of 29 years back, who ran into town clutching two £5 notes borrowed
from his mother, ready to buy his first-ever hardcover book.
Read More about that surreal day from Jeff Peirce HERE
As ever I digress, so without further wiffle, we present
Mark Timlin’s review of a Crime Series on TV, that may distract the mind from
lockdown due to Covid-19.
Stay well, and keep watch on your own mental health, and
that of others.
Ali Karim, September 2020
ANIMAL KINGDOM - AMAZON PRIME
The Colby family live it large in Oceanside CA. Ruled by the matriarchal Janine
Colby aka Smurf (She once turned blue. Long story. Watch the show) - like some
shade of Ma Baker, permanently pissed off with life as she cooks and cleans
like a maniacal gruesome hag on speed. With a million and a half dollars in
cash in a lock-up, surely, she could afford some help with the washing up.
Sharing her palatial digs are various sons and grandkids, all fathers absent, either KIA, MIA, or Mullered and buried deep in the desert on the road to Vegas. Her offspring are either surfers or psychos who pay their (and her) way by scams and robberies. These fuckers will rob anything: Banks, yachts, planes, drug dealers, pill mills, grass farms, jewellers’ shops, art galleries, you name it. In fact, the three series available on Prime (there’s five in all) are like one long heist movie. But don’t get the mistake that this mob are like modern day Robin Hoods. They are nasty bastards one and all, only caring about themselves and ‘family’ of course. Actually, keeping it in the family is pretty well hinted at, as Smurf is rather too over-familiar with ‘her boys’ as she calls them. No, the family are the sort of folks who would borrow your shorts and hand them back unwashed, shag your girlfriend, then shoot her full of smack, and dump an old lady with dementia on the side of the road because she might grass you up.
The upside of watching the show is hunky blokes, good looking women, cool cars, bikes and boats. Lots of loud music by bands and singers I’ve never heard of. That part of the zeitgeist passed me by. The downside is that the sex scenes, both gay and straight are too frequent, overlong, and frankly not sexy. The director should’ve stayed outside the bedroom door, or indeed the shower, the kitchen (unhygienic) or simply al-fresco. Also, there’s far too many surfing episodes, including a memorial for a dead friend which approaches bathos.
Based on an Australian film
of the same name that I must get on DVD, Animal Kingdom is about
as nasty as a dose of coronavirus whilst suffering with acute bowel trouble.
I am forced to watch it on my own, as no one else in the house will.
They hate it, I love it.
There, I’ve said it.
Mark Timlin September 2020
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