August 13, 2018
THE LIST
1. Slow Burn - "Deal or No Deal"
The critically acclaimed Slate podcast is back with it’s second season! This time around Leon Neyfakh will be taking us down the rabbit hole of the Bill Clinton impeachment hearings, and this first episode about Linda Tripp setting up Monica Lewinsky and the fallout thereafter was completely mesmerizing.
2. Radiolab - "Sex Ed"
Kids say the darndest things, and Mississippi educators model condom application using a sock! The concluding (live) chapter in the Gonads miniseries from Molly Webster is equal parts mind boggling, hilarious and insightful. In other words, Radiolab at it’s best.
3. Criminal - "On the Run"
White collar crime stories don’t inherently have the same dramatic appeal as crimes of passion populated with lurid details and unspeakable acts. But what if a white collar dude is actually a seriously subversive international criminal mastermind? You’ve got a plot for a critically acclaimed HBO drama or, alternately, this episode of Criminal.
HONORABLE MENTION
The Anthropocene Reviewed - "Lascaux Paintings and the Taco Bell Breakfast Menu"
Breach - "Caution! Falling Rocks"
SOMETHING NEW
I’ve had the good fortune over the past 6 months or so to be a regular reader of Podnews, an industry publication curated by James Cridland - a Brit living in Australia. This has provided me an entrypoint to hearing about several shows that might not have otherwise come my way. Most of my podcast listening centers on English-language shows produced in the US. I’ve dabbled into several Spanish shows, but generally speaking my ears are the most patriotic part of me. Today I’d like to feature my thoughts on the first ever Australia-based show to make an appearance on The Pod Piper - Lost in Larrimah, an investigative podcast from The Australian.
At the start, this felt like a specific type of show that has become a staple in the podcast world: the episodic true-crime drama. Reporters Kylie Stevenson and Caroline Graham set the scene: Larrimah, a tiny town in the island continent’s Northern Territory, where a man named Paddy Moriarty has gone missing. Graham soon reveals that she had met the surly central character, which by itself sets this show apart from the field. This is the first hint that the show doesn’t follow the typical framing for true-crime - the investigator typically doesn’t have an established relationship with the victim. In addition to Moriarty, the cast of characters seem ripped from some kind of reality TV show. All of them have endearing accents and at least one boasts a voice that proved completely unintelligible to this uninitiated American’s ears. I'd suggest perusing the images of Larrimahnians as you listen - not only to help keep the names straight, but also to acknowledge the humanity of this show. While the producers have clearly done a lot of research, there isn't a timeline or map or troves of data offered up on a richly designed interactive website built to entice obsessive amateur sleuths. There is an earnesty brewing that makes up for the lack of incisive cliff-hanging breadcumbery.
By the end of the first episode we get another tip to Lost in Larrimah’s uniqueness: a public service-style announcement asks for anyone with information about Moriarty’s whereabouts to call a hotline. This same spot airs after each installment of the show, serving as a constant reminder that this case won’t be solved by the show’s conclusion. This is a staunch and recurring gut-punch to any suspense that was building about whether we’ll find Paddy, but in sacrificing a shot at being the next Serial the show transforms into a beautifully reported slice-of-life documentary. In addition to the fascinating globs of provincial history that ooze out across the series, it is the coverage of the local gossip that piqued and held my interest. Moriarty does guide a lot of the questions, and for a moment there seems to be a prominent suspect with whom our enigmatic pseudo-protagonist continually butted heads. His disappearance eventually gets lost in the web of long-held grudges and tangled allegiances that bind the the town's remaining residents to one another. More compelling is the idea that this pinprick roadside destination for ambivalent tourists may cease to exist, in part due to the 10% decline in population represented by the missing man.
It’s a charming slice-of-Australiacana, even against the backdrop that one of these townspeople could have murdered one of their compatriots. Maybe the answer to the whodunnit is the key to the question of “will they live through it,” a staggeringly dramatic series of events that would make for excellent narrative audio. The irresolute ending, as it stands, left me with a feeling of hope despite the rather bleak prospects of both Paddy and his former home. It would be really intriguing to revisit Larrimah in a couple months or a year, with or without new leads to Paddy Moriarty’s disappearance. That’s as much a testament to the fascination of small-town life in another country as it is to the caring approach from Stevenson and Graham. As any decent person might, I certainly hold out hope that Mr. Moriarty turns up unharmed with whatever requisite explanation to justify his whereabouts. And maybe this show will amplify the odds of that happening. But the far more captivating mystery is not the location of the man but the state of the town and its struggle to survive. Come for the promise of a missing-person expose, stay for the ear picture of humans whose sense of community hangs by a thread.
At the start, this felt like a specific type of show that has become a staple in the podcast world: the episodic true-crime drama. Reporters Kylie Stevenson and Caroline Graham set the scene: Larrimah, a tiny town in the island continent’s Northern Territory, where a man named Paddy Moriarty has gone missing. Graham soon reveals that she had met the surly central character, which by itself sets this show apart from the field. This is the first hint that the show doesn’t follow the typical framing for true-crime - the investigator typically doesn’t have an established relationship with the victim. In addition to Moriarty, the cast of characters seem ripped from some kind of reality TV show. All of them have endearing accents and at least one boasts a voice that proved completely unintelligible to this uninitiated American’s ears. I'd suggest perusing the images of Larrimahnians as you listen - not only to help keep the names straight, but also to acknowledge the humanity of this show. While the producers have clearly done a lot of research, there isn't a timeline or map or troves of data offered up on a richly designed interactive website built to entice obsessive amateur sleuths. There is an earnesty brewing that makes up for the lack of incisive cliff-hanging breadcumbery.
By the end of the first episode we get another tip to Lost in Larrimah’s uniqueness: a public service-style announcement asks for anyone with information about Moriarty’s whereabouts to call a hotline. This same spot airs after each installment of the show, serving as a constant reminder that this case won’t be solved by the show’s conclusion. This is a staunch and recurring gut-punch to any suspense that was building about whether we’ll find Paddy, but in sacrificing a shot at being the next Serial the show transforms into a beautifully reported slice-of-life documentary. In addition to the fascinating globs of provincial history that ooze out across the series, it is the coverage of the local gossip that piqued and held my interest. Moriarty does guide a lot of the questions, and for a moment there seems to be a prominent suspect with whom our enigmatic pseudo-protagonist continually butted heads. His disappearance eventually gets lost in the web of long-held grudges and tangled allegiances that bind the the town's remaining residents to one another. More compelling is the idea that this pinprick roadside destination for ambivalent tourists may cease to exist, in part due to the 10% decline in population represented by the missing man.
It’s a charming slice-of-Australiacana, even against the backdrop that one of these townspeople could have murdered one of their compatriots. Maybe the answer to the whodunnit is the key to the question of “will they live through it,” a staggeringly dramatic series of events that would make for excellent narrative audio. The irresolute ending, as it stands, left me with a feeling of hope despite the rather bleak prospects of both Paddy and his former home. It would be really intriguing to revisit Larrimah in a couple months or a year, with or without new leads to Paddy Moriarty’s disappearance. That’s as much a testament to the fascination of small-town life in another country as it is to the caring approach from Stevenson and Graham. As any decent person might, I certainly hold out hope that Mr. Moriarty turns up unharmed with whatever requisite explanation to justify his whereabouts. And maybe this show will amplify the odds of that happening. But the far more captivating mystery is not the location of the man but the state of the town and its struggle to survive. Come for the promise of a missing-person expose, stay for the ear picture of humans whose sense of community hangs by a thread.
From: The Australian
Recommended for: Unsuspecting fans of true crime who really just need to hear a story about rural Australian community life.
Drop Schedule: Seasonal (All episodes available now)
Average episode length: 25 minutes
Rating: Gotta Have It
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