Generally speaking, I don’t watch many shows live— or close to live viewing. I have a few exceptions— The Voice, The Bachelor, but that’s about it. The rest, I like to accumulate a few episodes to have a good few hours of binge-watching satisfaction on the weekend.
This past weekend, the hubby and I started watching Making a Murder on #Netflix. I’d heard from many people how great it was and that we had to start watching. So we did… and we’re not mid-way through episode 3 and fascinated.
Appalled.
And intensely curious as to what hasn’t been dropped on us in the scheme of the next 7 episodes to come. Right now, we’re pretty suspicious about why Stephen Avery is being accused.
This seems like a slam dunk on Avery’s side.
And then the bomb dropped about his nephew’s confession.
It’s sort of like those moments in soap operas when your favorite couple is blissful, happy, with smooth sailing waters ahead. You know that means someone’s husband or wife is coming back from the dead, with six children they didn’t know about and most likely, a dire medical condition in which one or both parties of the couple has six minutes to live.
In soaps, they build up the situations until they are at the absolute worst moment to explode. See image above of wedding being ruined by dead wife returning from the not-so-dead on General Hospital.
With this show, we could tell that the stacks were getting pretty high on the side of believing in Avery’s innocence. Of course, we’re only 3 episodes in so who knows what’s next. But the sheer fact that there are ten episodes to this story tells me… there’s lots of soapy documentary goodness ahead.
And don’t spoil it for me!
