murder

Saturday Afternoon Chat: What comments on a semi-viral post about Angela Lansbury tell me about today’s society and specifically men

/ Lisa R. Howeler / 8 Comments

A couple of weeks ago, I uploaded a clip of Angela Lansbury becoming emotional when talking about the cancellation of Murder, She Wrote.

The show was canceled in 1996 and this interview was conducted that same year. Maybe six months later.

It was on 60 Minutes and Leslie Stahl was the interviewer.

I showed maybe 30 seconds of that interview on a reel on Instagram and it also posted to Facebook.

Before I knew it I had thousands of views and hundreds of comments on both platforms.

Most of the comments were extremely sweet and reflected on pleasant memories of the show. Men and women remembered watching it with their grandparents, watching it themselves, or just starting to watch the reruns now.

Many expressed sadness that the cancellation hit Angela Lansbury so hard. It was hard for them to see Angela crying.

Murder, She Wrote ran for 12 seasons on Sunday nights CBS before being moved around a few times in its last season.

There are different theories as to why the show was moved, but whatever the theory, it essentially killed viewership, as loyal fans no longer knew where to find the show.

After 12 years, Angela, who was now a producer of the show and the star — playing mystery writer and amateur sleuth Jessica Fletcher — had been told her show was over.

No amount of letter writing from fans would help. The production ended and Angela, doing an interview very shortly after the cancellation, was still emotional.

In the 30-second clip I showed, Angela teared up talking about it and had to reach for a cup of tea and then a glass of water to keep her emotions in check.

While most comments were supportive of Angela, there were other callous, unsympathetic, and downright rude comments left, and I couldn’t figure out why. Those who commented actually seemed angry at Angela for crying.

Many of those comments focused on how long the show ran.

Almost all of them had poor punctuation so they read like this: what’s her problem? it ran 12 years come on get over yourself lady

It ran for 12 years lol nothing to be sad about

12 years. Over 200 shows. Get a grip woman, you had a good run

And this one was the worst I got out of more than 20 comments like the ones above: She was an aging hag. And all her alcoholic actress friends were on the show looking rancid.

Another horrible one I deleted very fast called her a classy lady who was “being classless by crying.”

There is one thing every single one of the mean, nasty, and rude comments had in common.

They were almost all written by men or people with profile photos that showed they were men.

These men had a very big problem with a woman showing emotion.

It was so uncomfortable to see chauvinism happening right in front of my eyes.

Something about a woman over a certain age crying just set them off.

There were a few semi-rude comments from women on both platforms, but most of those comments were more encouraging like they felt bad she was sad, but it was a good run.

I was surprised, though, by the men who felt the compulsion to stop their scrolling, pause on this reel, and take the time to comment something ignorant.

Yes, 12 years is a long time for a show to run, and Angela knew it. It was the way the show was cancelled that hit her so hard.

The show had become special to her and beloved by millions. It was a wonderful escape from life on a Sunday night.

I  mentioned these comments and how many of them were men to my friend Erin, and we agreed that they were misogynistic comments, one, and that, two, people can no longer handle emotion because so much of our world is fake, even the emotion.

I shared this with her in an Instagram chat: “What people don’t seem to get is this interview was held shortly after it all happened. Her emotions were raw. She was sad. It is called human emotion. The issue is that we now live in a world where we watch videos all the time where people use fake emotions to manipulate people, so when somebody is faced with real emotions, they don’t understand it, and they recoil from it. They think it’s another manipulation attempt. That’s the real big problem with technology and social media. It has warped our humanity. It has made us question human visceral reactions that are real in a way that we start to hate the people who have legit emotions.”

And hate is an accurate word based on the comments. These people were angry about a woman crying. Not just confused or questioning. Many of the comments, which I couldn’t quote here, were legit full of rage over an older woman with tears in her eyes, experiencing real sadness.

I started deleting the comments, not because I don’t support free speech or do support censorship, but because the comment section was full of people connecting in a positive way through nostalgia about a show that had positive memories for them.

Many commentators remembered watching the show with their grandparents or parents, many of those people now passed on.

Many agreed that 12 years was a good run, but they related to Angela’s sadness at how it all happened, at how moving the show was a horrible way to end the show and marred its legacy.

Of course, we know now that it didn’t really ruin the legacy of the show, which is still popular in reruns. At that time, though, Angela felt it was a horrible ending for a wonderful time in her life.

I’m going to keep deleting those horrible comments, whether from men or women, not because people aren’t allowed to have an opinion but because these comments were meant to strike at the pleasant memories of others and inject negativity into positivity.

I just don’t have patience for that anymore.

Summer of Angela: The Celtic Riddle (A Murder, She Wrote movie)

/ Lisa R. Howeler / 5 Comments

This summer I have been watching movies that Angela Lansbury starred in or co-starred. This week I watched my last movie for this particular event.

Up next will be Comfy, Cozy Cinema for autumn with Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs. The list of movies we are watching is at the bottom of this post.

On Wednesday, I decided the movie I had picked all the way back at the beginning of this marathon wasn’t really something I was interested in at all. I had not looked the movie up or watched anything about it before I picked it and I should have. So, instead, I decided to cap off my Angela Lansbury movie watching marathon with a TV movie from the show that made her a household name — Murder, She Wrote.

When Murder, She Wrote was canceled in 1996, Angela Lansbury and loyal fans of the show were heartbroken. Lansbury was also angry and disappointed. One thing that soothed the shocking blow was when CBS agreed to make a series of TV movies featuring the character to appease Lansbury and fans.

Sadly, none of the movies took place in Cabot Cove with the original cast, but they at least featured Angela as Jessica.

The last of those movies, The Celtic Riddle, which I chose to watch for this week, aired in 2003.

I thought it was interesting that Angela’s son, Anthony Shaw, was the director and producer for all four of the films. This movie was also dedicated to the memory of Peter Shaw, Jessica’s husband, who died that same year. I thought it was also interesting that Amazon just put the movie up this past week. Perfect timing for me!

Here is a bit of description from online: Intrepid investigator Jessica Fletcher travels to Ireland to attend the reading of an old friend’s will, but a series of murders which follow have the police baffled. Jessica realizes that the will contains clues to the whereabouts of a secret treasure, as well as pointing to the real killer.

In the beginning of the movie, Jessica arrives at a mansion in a taxi and then rushes inside to the will reading. She sits down and receives several glares from the others in attendance. It’s clear she is not welcome but we don’t know yet why or even who the people are.

We slowly begin to learn about the family as a man gives his last will and testament on a video on a TV at the front of the room. The man has an Irish accent and it’s soon clear we — er, Jessica I mean — is now in Ireland.

There is a woman wearing sunglasses who looks sour, another sour-looking woman next to her, a free-spirited girl with a tortoise, a youngish man with spiked hair who is glaring, another young man, an older man who is drinking from a flask, a nervous-looking housekeeper, and another man who is sort of plain.

Each of those people will later either become suspects or victims after the man who passed away —  Eamon Byrne  — has his lawyer give each of them an envelope with a clue inside that will lead them to a treasure. His hope seems to be that they will work together to find out the meaning of the clues. That will be hard to do when each person seems to have a gripe against another person in the group.

The people in the room, it turns out, are his lawyer, his two daughters, his one daughter’s (Breeta’s) boyfriend, a man who wants to be Breeta’s boyfriend, a drunk man, and the housekeeper (Nora).

They will all have to join forces to find the treasure but before that can happen people in the group start dropping like flies. The saddest murder to me was the last one but I won’t spoil why.

 Jessica isn’t very welcomed by the family and she especially isn’t welcome when Eamon  leaves her Rose Cottage for once saving his life when he was visiting Cabot Cove. This is a small cottage on the property but not the main house, which his called, fittingly, Second Chance.

The problem is that Breeta (Sarah Jane-Potts) is living in Rose Cottage to be away from her money and power-hungry family members. While she’s at first hostile toward Jessica for being given the cottage, they eventually become friends as they try to figure out Breeta’s father’s riddle and who is killing people off.

An aside: The little cottage reminded me of the house my elderly friend Rev. Reynolds and his wife Maud lived in. Rev. Reynolds built his home to look just like an Irish cottage since he was from Northern Ireland. It was so cozy and warm. I loved visiting them there (except when he had another project for me) It brings tears to my eyes to think of it and the memories there. I’m so glad another couple is living there now and keeping the cozy feel of it alive.  I need to go visit them soon since I met them through Rev. Reynolds.

Anyhow…back to the show:

The lead inspector in this movie, by the way, was quite amused by Jessica’s suspicions and deductions after the first murder. He looked like he was about to burst into laughter as she laid out her theory.

He seemed to think it was super cute that this old lady mystery writer thought the man might have been hit on the head. I really liked the actor — Timothy V. Murphy. I thought he played the part perfectly. I felt like he was saying in his mind, “Aw..she’s so cute. The mystery writer thinks she knows how to solve a real crime.”

(Excuse the reproduction here – it’s from my computer because there were not a lot of images online from the movie.)

Of course he had to eat his words when it turned out she was right and from then on, he treated her gently and seemed to want to take care of her and also believe every theory she had.

This video is also from my laptop so not the best reproduction:

The Irish accents in this were on point which made me look up the actors to see if they were actually Irish. With names like Cyril O’Reilly, Timothy Murphy, and Fionnula Flanagan how could they not have been Irish? I didn’t have time to research each actor but most of them did seem to actually be Irish and from Ireland.

I did recognize Fionnula Flanagan, but I’m not sure from what. I must have seen her in something or other, though. It will come to me eventually.

As in any Murder, She Wrote episode there were moments where I was like, “Well, that was a stupid move!” Like at one point Jessica runs out the door in the middle of her and Breeta and Breeta’s boyfriend, Paddy, (Cyril O’Reilly) brainstorming who the murderer is and she just says, “Wait here. I’m going to check something out.”

I literally said to the screen: “Jessica! Tell them where you are going! You can’t just run off places alone. That’s dangerous and you’re an old lady now!”

That’s the thing about these mystery shows —someone is always doing something dumb and the characters and us viewers just shrug it off like it is normal — well, after we yell at them of course. *wink*.

Also, Breeta’s boyfriend looked waaay too old for her. Like he could have been her dad old. When I looked up the actors, he was indeed 20 years older than her. Ick.

I feel bad in some ways, that Angela Lansbury, an Oscar-nominated actress, chose to be in these movies. They apparently didn’t have much of a budget because the rocks in the one scene were so clearly fake. Like plastic or Styrofoam fake. Eeek. Angela Lansbury loved Murder, She Wrote, though, and she liked the escape it gave people so I know that’s why she agreed to do them. I like watching the reruns for the same reason. She really gave us a gift by playing Jessica, even is she knew it wasn’t always “great TV” exactly.

Excuse the reproduction here – it’s from my computer because there were not a lot of images online from the movie.

Despite all those weird little quirks and fake rocks in the movie, the story itself and the acting wasn’t too bad.

I will say I guessed the killer about ten minutes into the show because of his expressions (smiling and five seconds later frowning menacingly) but the mystery may be harder for you. They did a good job of dropping red herrings throughout the show to distract me and others, though.

I don’t know that I’d watch this again and again or even … again once, but it was a fun little escape, much like the show. I think this autumn I might watch the other movies and see what I think of those too.

But for now, this is the end of my Summer of Angela.

If you’d like to read what I thought of the other movies I chose you can find the links to them here:

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

The Manchurian Candidate

National Velvet

The Pirates of Penzance

Gaslight

Please Murder Me

Death on The Nile

The Court Jester

The Picture of Dorian Gray

A Life At Stake

The Long, Hot Summer

If you were to ask me which ones from this list were my favorites I’d have to say Gaslight and The Manchurian Candidate. The biggest surprise for me was The Pirates of Penzance and the films that made me forget Angela as Jessica Fletcher was The Manchurian Candidate followed by A Life at Stake and then The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Up next, Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs and I will be watching movies for Comfy, Cozy Cinema. Yes, we do know those two words are pretty much the same word and, no, we don’t care if that bothers anyone. *wink*

Here is the list of what we will be watching and the dates we will be writing about those movies:

You can also find impressions of movies we watched in the past Comfy, Cozy Cinemas HERE.

Have you ever seen this TV movie? What did you think of it?

Hello! Welcome to my blog. I am a blogger, homeschool mom, and I write cozy mysteries.

You can find my Gladwynn Grant Mystery series HERE.

You can also find me on Instagram and YouTube.

Maybe you should pay attention when a friend starts posting depressed social media updates after all

/ Lisa R. Howeler / 7 Comments

This weekend a person in our small county killed three of his family members and then himself. He’d been posting depressing cries for help for more than a month on his Facebook account and people who knew him said he was suffering from PTSD, possibly from his time in the service.

A veteran suffering from PTSD in our area is not new and it’s also not unusual to be reading yet another story about one of them killing themselves or someone else. Almost as common as the obits of young people dying of heroin overdose in our area are the obits of military veterans, of all ages, dying at their own hands.

Comments about this latest case ranged from “what a freaking psycho, I don’t care if he had PTSD or not” to “why didn’t someone help him?” and “how can I help someone who has PTSD to keep this from happening?”

There was a lot of hurt, a lot of anger and even more ignorance about mental health showcased on social media following the murders and suicide. I think one of the most common misconceptions about mental illnesses like depression is that the depressed person is always going to show they are depressed and they are always going to reach out for help, before they do something drastic. Depressed people don’t seek help most of the time, period. What they might do is try to send messages to those around them to let them know how down they are getting. They throw out a lifeline, but many times those lines are never picked up

Hurt people hurt people. Period. The first time I heard that phrase I was angry. I didn’t want to hear that. I didn’t want to think about how or why the person who hurt me was hurting inside. My exact words were “screw that. I don’t care how hurt they are, it never excuses what they did.” And it’s true. Being hurt doesn’t excuse you from hurting others. What that phrase does is explain that people aren’t always simple jerks when they do something that devastates another person. It’s more complex and deep than the person simply being a horrible person.

I also notice in this world that when someone is labeled as “depressed” or “needing meds” it seems to coincide with the feeling they aren’t worth dealing with, worth associating with, worth reaching out to. I guess we feel that if we can’t “fix” a person then we shouldn’t even bother dealing with them at all.

I can’t tell you how many times I posted on Facebook while depressed, hoping someone would pay attention and call me. Was it sad? Yes? Did I feel like a loser trying to get attention? Yes. Did anyone ever call and check on me? No. I sometimes got a comment of “so sorry you’re feeling that way…” but I can not remember even once a friend picking up the phone and saying “What is going on? How can I help?”

The bigger question – was I ever suicidal? No! Thank God, I never have been. Never. I can assure you of this. I’m a Christian but I still fear death, especially if I did it myself. I’d doubt God would smile on that. But if I had been suicidal, there wasn’t one person who would have stopped me. Why? I don’t know. Because they didn’t think I really would? Because they didn’t want to deal with me? Because – they really don’t care if I am here or not? I don’t know. What I do know is that it seems people don’t care until the person is gone and then they feel guilty, when they might have been able to say something before they read the obit or the news story.

Certainly this guy who killed his family was sending messages on social media in the months leading up to the murders and his suicide. And it was clear by comments made after he died that most of the people in his life wrote him off as a freak and never tried to actually help him.

Comments made on the man’s social media page after the crime are why the depressed and anxious continue to live their lives in the dark no matter how many celebrities suggest they “reach out” and “seek help.”

Help?

Or judgment?

Help?

Or mocking?

Help?

Or being told you’re not a good Christian because you’re depressed?

Most of the time depressed people, especially Christians, will not seek help because we know we won’t get it. We will be handed Bible verses to show us we are sinning. Pressure will be placed on our shoulders with statements like “I can’t wait to see what God is going to do with your life through this.” Well, that is just great. Not only do we have to survive a traumatic life event but we also have to somehow use it in the future to help others.

Maybe waiting until the crisis is a little more under control before declaring that the person in pain will eventually share their pain so one day the rest of the Christian community can dissect it and judge it like you’re doing.

Christians who deal with depression are tired of the stigma, tired of being looked down on and really tired of being ignored and walked away from. We know the authority we have over the dark. We get it and we try our best to wield that authority but some days we are tired and other Christians reminding us that our weakness is a sin because the Bible commands us to always rejoice and never be anxious is simply not helping.

Maybe if someone had paid attention to that young man’s pleas for help – no matter how subtle they seemed (though I don’t think letting people know in a Facebook post that a murderer doesn’t go around telling everyone of their plans, they just do it, is subtle.) he and the rest of his family would be alive today. But then again, maybe they wouldn’t because as much as I hate to be judged, I can’t imagine judging the family that remains. Most people who are depressed don’t hurt others or even themselves.

I’m sure that man’s family could have never imagined he’d do what he did and they may have even tried many times to get him help. In fact, I have a feeling they begged him to seek help many times. A person has to want to seek help.

It’s sad to think, though, that maybe one reason he didn’t seek that help was the fear of being treated just like he was in death – like a “loser” who “couldn’t get it together,” and “didn’t deserve to live.”