Please, No More ‘Tiger King’
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OK, good. I watched Tiger King same as the others. In March 2020, the month the world is best known for words like coronavirus, lockdown, ug Yo, do we have to disinfect these Doritos? It was an awesome time, one that was so served to see what my partner Kate Knibbs said. properly called a horrible “bad feeling show.” It’s not like the world without fuzzy color today, however Netflix recently announced Tiger King 2, and I can’t think of a show I don’t really want to watch.
Not that Tiger King awful. As far as the documentary goes, there are all the right ingredients-compelling characters (especially Joe Exotic and his nemesis Carole Baskin), lots of drama (the world of owners and big cat wild, who knows?), and enough plot twists to fill a Christopher Nolan movie. Mao ra na Tiger King a time and place, and that time and place is gone.
I’m not suggesting no one look at it. About 64 million households are watching Tiger King in the first month of release in 2020. Surely many of the viewers will come back for more when TK2 fell later this year. And frankly, this is in line with the state of unwritten TV today. Wickedness is sold. If you watch the rest of the non-fiction program announced on Netflix yesterday, you can clearly see the pattern. there The Tinder Swindler, about a dude who pretends to be a billionaire lothario on dating apps and “the women who set out to humiliate him”; No Trust in One: The Search for the Crypto King, about “a group of investors who have gone bad” investigating the mysterious demise of the crypto millionaire Gerry Natawo; The Puppet Master: Finding the Last Conman, which is a three -part series that is exactly what its title implies; and Bad Vegan, about a restaurateur, which – surprise! —Links to a man who claims he can build him a food empire, and, uh, “make his beloved pit bull immortal.” That’s three artists and three hunts, in my count, each promising even more next.
Perhaps all of this is sitting uncomfortable this week due to the constant flood of news in Gabrielle Petito’s case. For those who haven’t followed, Petito was reported missing that month before he returned from a road trip with his fiancé Brian Laundrie. Shortly afterwards, several internet sleuths caught up with the case, scoured Petito and Laundrie’s Instagram and YouTube feeds and filled in. many TikTok FYP. On Tuesday, authorities confirmed the remains gathered at a Wyoming national park were those in Petito, causing a lot of attention.
Frankly, this is the kind of story one would expect to see in a Netflix documentary, and one that all online detectives are scrambling around for. because to intrigue the series made around cases like Petito. Sometimes an internet rally can help (see: Usually Not Harmful, or the subjects of another one Netflix documents, Don’t F ** k With Cats), but people nag comment na things like “not as disrespectful, but I can’t wait for the Netflix series” in social media posts about Petito. And, as such Joy Reid told her MSNBC show this week, the attention around her story is a case of “lost white woman syndrome” – a public outcry that focuses on some missing people but rarely missing people color or trans people or people of other minority groups. Honestly, everything is a little unobtrusive.
This is, to be fair, not entirely Netflix’s fault. The streaming service will not do all of these shows unless they are studied by the audience. Maybe it’s just sad that people swallow them too many. Admiring the darker sides of the human psyche is common – and so on SNL taught us, everyone likes it well “showing murder”—But at one point, there were too many. The devastation and escape of the Oklahoma exotic animal drama world in early 2020 is one thing; Spending the next two years swallowing hours of time with artists and swindlers and everything else that is different from real crime is different. The cat has come out of the bag.
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